


NCIS tumblr prompts

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: NCIS
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 86
Words: 40,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fills for prompts left on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tim & Ziva, belong

**Author's Note:**

> please note that these may contain spoilers for new episodes

Ziva frowned at the box on the floor, looking for any markings on it. She found none, causing her to furrow her brow even more. This wasn’t typical for either her or Tim. They had taken great care to label each of their boxes with which room it was supposed to go in.  
  
Her boyfriend walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She rested her hands on his and closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.  
  
“I think we’re pretty much done for today.” Tim muttered, resting his head on her shoulder.  
  
“You unpacked all your stuff already?” she asked him and felt him shake his head slowly.  
  
“Not everything but most of my things. I got enough clothes out to last two days, we can do the rest tomorrow. I’m tired. Exhausted.” he said, his voice soft. Ziva chuckled lightly.  
  
“Then go to bed.” she told him, turning in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.  
  
“Can’t. It’s our first night in our apartment, I don’t wanna go to bed without you.” he told her, resting his forehead against hers. Ziva smiled and gently stroked his cheek.  
  
“Okay, then help me figure out where this box belongs and I will come to bed with you.” she told him. Tim let go of her with a dramatic sigh and bent down to pick the moving box up, setting it onto the dinner table and pulling out his knife to open it. Both peered inside, Tim frowning at the contents while Ziva reached inside and gently withdrew a soft blanket, inhaling the scent of it before rubbing her cheek against it.  
  
“My guess is that this is yours.” Tim softly said and Ziva opened her eyes to look at him. She swallow thickly and placed the blanket back inside before closing the box and carrying it into their bedroom, placing it down on the floor of their walk-in closet.  
  
“Ziva?” he asked her, catching her wrist gently when she moved to brush past him again. “What’s in it?”  
  
Ziva looked up at him, drawing a shuddering breath.  
  
“My aunt Nettie sent it after I came to live here permanently. It’s… everything… I have left of Tali and Ari.” she muttered, blinking at the tears that were suddenly welling up in her eyes. “Her baby blanket, drawings, pictures, gifts and mementos… I didn’t know where to put them when I first came here, so she offered to keep them safe for me.”  
  
Tim pulled her close and hugged her to him, cradling her head in his hand and rubbing soft circles on her back with the other as she held onto him tightly.  
  
“Wanna show me?” he asked her, kissing her temple. Ziva blinked up at him, her face slowly brightening as she nodded and pointed to the bed. He sat down and waited for her to carry the box over and then watched as she withdrew the items and showed them to him, telling him what they were and who they belonged to once and why she had kept them.


	2. Tim & Ziva, sex

“It’s just sex.”  
  
Tim shook his head, raking his hand through his short hair.  
  
“Maybe it is for you.” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Ziva reached out to touch him but he quickly withdrew his arm.  
  
“Tim, please…” she whispered, taking a step closer, but he just took to steps back, away from her. Her face crumbled. “It didn’t mean anything.” she tried desperately, tears welling up in her eyes. “It was just a job, orders, I didn’t feel anything for any of them. Tim, please.”  
  
He looked away, shaking his head.  
  
“I need some air.” he whispered, brushing past her and leaving the apartment, the door slamming closed behind him. Ziva hugged her middle and clenched her eyes shut, desperately trying not to sob as the tears started running down her face.


	3. Tim & Ziva, home

“So, what do you think?” Tim asked his girlfriend, holding the screwdriver up and watching her face.  
  
Ziva looked at the plate now screwed to the wall next to the coat hanger. Abby had given it to them when they had moved into the apartment together two weeks ago and with their busy job and one case after the other it was only now that they had gotten around to finding a place to put it up.  
  
 _Home, Sweet Home_  
  
She turned around, smiling at her boyfriend and pulling him down for a gentle kiss.  
  
“I think it’s perfect.” she whispered against his lips.


	4. Tim & Ziva, look

There is something in her eyes.  
  
A certain look that will make his skin crawl and his throat go dry, that makes it impossible to look away from her. That draws him in and makes him want to kiss her, to bury his hands in her dark curls and never let go of her.  
  
And then there is that vulnerability that always follows shortly after, when he doesn’t make a move. When her walls crumble down for an instant and he can see her soul laid bare, all the hurt and pain and insecurities.  
  
Ziva’s dark eyes will be his downfall, sooner or later. Tim is sure of that.


	5. Tim & Ziva, red

The contrast was startling. How the bright red clashed against the gray of his shirt, the bunched up white material of her jacket that she pressed to the wound.  
  
He drew a shuddering breath, scrunching up his face in pain and giving a feeble groan.  
  
“Stay with me.” she pleaded, letting go of the jacket with one hand to slap his cheek. “Tim, come on, open your eyes; stay with me.”  
  
His eyes were getting heavy and her voice seemed to be coming from far away. He startled slightly when he pried his eyelids open and found her right in front of him, desperation on her beautiful face.  
  
“Zee…vah…” he muttered, cringing against the pain.  
  
“I’m right here. Help is coming, just hang in there, okay?” she asked him, a tear running down her cheek.  
  
“Hurts.” he breathed and she raised her hand to stroke his cheek.  
  
“I know.” she whispered, attempting a soft smile that came out as more of a grimace. Sirens were approaching in the distance. “Listen, can you hear them? They’ll be here in a second and then you’ll feel better.”  
  
“Stay.” he coaxed out as the first paramedic tried pulling her away to get a look at his gunshot wound. She left his field of vision and he tried raising his head but was too weak, but then she was at his side again, squeezing his shoulder.  
  
“I won’t leave you alone, Tim.” she promised him, and he gave her a soft smile before closing his eyes.


	6. Tim & Ziva, fresh

He likes to eat mint candy. Especially in the winter, when it’s cold. And whenever she kisses him, there’s that fresh taste of mint in his mouth. She catches herself licking her lips afterwards to catch the last of his taste, mint and all.  
  
When he offers her one of them, she declines, only to kiss him a few seconds later.  
  
She is far more fond of the minty freshness when she can taste it on his lips.


	7. Tim & Ziva, ice

“Ready?” Tim asks and holds up the ice cube. She nods, her hands clenching in the satin sheets. Ziva watches as he places the ice cube just below where the two cups of her bra connect. The coldness is sharp against her naked skin and she inhales deeply, sending the ice cube sliding down her stomach and belly to settle against her belly button, leaving a cold trail.  
  
He bends down and licks at the cold trail, setting her skin on fire. Ice and fire, sharp contrasts. She shivers beneath him and arches her back into his tongue as he travels south, his tongue circling her belly button before he picks up the ice cube with his teeth and marks a cold trail up again.  
  
She squirms, gasping his name. The ice leaves her body and he dumps it into the champagne cooler before his tongue returns to her skin, setting it aflame.


	8. Tim & Ziva, tulip

“Oh! Those really are beautiful.” Abby exclaims, walking over to the dining table and the vase with flowers. “I have never seen these before.”  
  
Ziva smiles, following her friend.  
  
“They are Yonina tulips. My favorite flowers.” she tells the Goth, catching Tim’s eye over the table and giving him a full smile. He grins at her before taking a sip of his beer to hide his expression. And to think, it had only taken stops at four different flower shops to find those damn tulips. But he’d do pretty much anything to get a smile on her face these days.


	9. Tim & Ziva, know

Apparently, the myth holds true. A woman just _knows._ Which is why she isn’t the least bit surprised when she picks up the pregnancy test and finds a pink plus sign staring back at her.  
  
Even though Tim knows that something is different with her, he has no idea what exactly it is. So it comes as a complete surprise for him when she places a small box down in front of him after dinner.  
  
He eyes her and then the present suspiciously before sighing and opening it, finding a pair of white baby socks inside.  
  
It’s when he laughs and hugs her and lifts her up to twirl them both around in the living room before kissing her urgently that she knows they’re going to be alright, even though this is unplanned and they wanted to wait a little more before having kids.


	10. Tim & Ziva, vindicated

“Hey Abby.” Ziva greeted the scientist, walking into the lap, Tim following close behind.  
  
“Hey guys.” Abby looked over her shoulder briefly before turning around, smirking. The two agents frowned lightly at her. “I knew it.” she said. “Finally I will be vindicated.”  
  
“Um, Abby, what are you talking about?” Tim asked her, confused by the woman’s behavior.  
  
“You got lipstick on your collar.” Abby informed him, crossing her arms over her chest when Tim blushed a deep red. “And you missed a button.” she turned to Ziva, who looked down at her blouse, only to groan when she found Abby to be right. She had indeed missed a button when she had put it on again after the rather hurried session in the elevator.  
  
“And Tony thought that there was nothing going on between you two and said I was just imagining things.” the Goth giggled as Tim attempted to remove the lipstick stain and Ziva straightened out her blouse.


	11. Tim & Ziva, given

“Well, it’s good you can still work together, given…” the woman trailed off. Ziva, who had let her eyes wander, looking around if she knew someone at this shin-ding, snapped her attention back to the chatty… person that Tony had brought along. She narrowed her eyes at the blonde and Tony gave a nervous chuckle.  
  
“Given what?” Ziva asked, her voice dangerously even. The calm before the storm, and Tim recognized it as such.  
  
“Ziva, I don’t think-“ he tried to prevent the situation from escalating. She had been in a rather foul mood since this morning, when she found that he had forgotten to pick up fresh milk when she wanted to put some in her black tea.  
  
“Well, I mean, if my girlfriend had had sex with her partner, I wouldn’t want to be in the field with the man, you know?” the other woman continued and shot Tim’s attempt to hell.  
  
Tony groaned and threw his head back in his neck as Ziva turned on him.  
  
“We had SEX?!” she raised her voice, causing a few people to look over to them, watching the scene unfold. Tim made a grab for her elbow, but Ziva shook his hand off and send him a warning glare before turning to her field partner again.  
  
“It’s just a misunderstanding.” Tony told her, trying to calm her with one of his smiles. He should have learned by now that they didn’t work on her.  
  
“Then explain. I am all ears, Tony.” Ziva prompted him, her hands on her hips and tapping her foot.  
  
“Well, you see, Laura, Ziva and I only posed as married assassins. We didn’t actually-“ he started, trying to calm his more-than-fuming ex-assassin partner down.


	12. Tim & Ziva, same

Tim stared at the two toddlers in horror. How on earth could he have been that stupid? They looked virtually the same, there was no way of telling them apart now.  
  
He quickly dug out his cell phone and dialed the familiar number. Her voice was groggy and he felt bad for making her come over, but he really was panicking and didn’t know what to do.  
  
When the doorbell rang, he rushed to open the door, hugging Ziva to him as if his life depended on it. And it probably did, given that he had just screwed up royally.  
  
“What’s the emergency?” Ziva asked him, once he managed to let go of her. He led her into the living room, pointing at the two toddlers lying on their stomachs, blowing spit bubbles and attempting to crawl around. Ziva furrowed her brow in confusion.  
  
“I do not see the problem, Tim. They seem to be happy, awake, they’re not crying-“  
  
“I don’t know who’s who!” he exclaimed. Ziva whirled around and stared at him, her mouth opening in shock.  
  
“You WHAT?!” she exclaimed, and four small eyes turned to stare at her in surprise. She cringed and plastered on a smile, walking over to the babies and crouching down to greet them.  
  
“I know!” Tim whined. “They got themselves dirty and I changed them, only I forgot who got what outfit.” he explained, looking at the identical twins in horror. Ziva bounced one of them on her leg, making funny faces at him. “What are you doing?” he frowned at her.  
  
“Jaden’s laugh is higher than Jack’s.” she informed him, but the baby refused to co-operate and didn’t laugh, only smiled goofily and continued to blow spit bubbles.  
  
“I am dead. Jimmy will kill me when he finds out I mixed up his kids!” Tim groaned, and Ziva chuckled.  
  
“I would worry more about Breena.” she told him, and Tim sat down hard on the floor, picking up the other twin.  
  
“There really is no way to tell them apart, is there?” Tim asked her, his voice taking on a desperate edge. Ziva frowned in concentration, looking at both of the kids in turn. She had asked Breena once how they managed to tell the twins apart, because she could not see physical traits that one of them possessed and the other was lacking… Suddenly, her face lit up and she took of the socks of the twin she was holding.  
  
“Uh, Ziva…” Tim muttered, watching her with growing confusion. Ziva leaned over and took the socks off of ‘his’ twin, too, giggling.  
  
“Problem solved.” she told him, pointing at the tiny feet. “Since they sometimes have trouble telling them apart, Breena and Jimmy started painting Jack’s toenails.”   
  
Tim looked down, erupting into laughter when he found the toenails of the kid he was holding painted in green.


	13. Tim & Ziva, lust

One of her favorite things about him is that specific moment during their making out. She will be sitting in his lap or be cuddled against him in bed or standing in front of him. And they’ll be kissing, which slowly transforms from gentle and soft to sorta urgent and almost desperate. He’ll slip his hands under her shirt (if she is wearing one, that is) and run them up and down her back, tracing her spine and her sides. And then that moment comes. When his hands reach her sides and travel up to stroke the sides of her breasts. If she breaks the kiss right then and leans back to look into his eyes, she’ll find the normally light green a few shades darker, clouding with desire and lust and love. It’s just a short moment when it’s all visible in his eyes, his want, his need, his love, his hunger, his appreciation and –something that never seems to disappear, no matter how often she tells him she’s there to stay- his insecurities.  
  
That short moment is one of the many things she loves about him.


	14. Tim & Ziva, xray

“It doesn’t hurt!” the child insisted, trying to get away from the doctor. Tim opened his mouth to tell her to stop it when the door to the exam room opened and Ziva walked in. He breathed a sigh of relief, she was way better at this stuff than he was.  
  
“Hey Amy.” Ziva greeted the girl, hugging her gently before shaking the hand of the doctor. “What happened?” she asked, running her hair through the girl’s dark hair and smiling down at her where she was sitting on the exam table.  
  
“She fell from the plaything at the playground, landing on her arm. She was screaming like mad when we got here, but then they gave her something for the pain and now she insists that it doesn’t hurt any more.” Tim told her, glaring at the child who stuck out her tongue at him. Ziva rolled her eyes at the two. Any child of Tony’s would inherit his stubbornness, of course.  
  
“We still need to do an x-ray, but-“  
  
At the sound of the word, the girl started screaming loudly. Ziva flinched and held her hand to Amy’s mouth.  
  
“I see the problem.” she nodded, kissing the girl’s temple and trying to shush her. “Hey, it’s okay. Amy, don’t, stop it. No one is going to hurt you.” she told her gently.  
  
“I don’t need an x-ray, it doesn’t hurt!” the eight year old exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes.  
  
“Okay. Okay, if it doesn’t hurt, then you don’t need one.” Ziva gave in. The doctor immediately opened his mouth, but she shot him a glare and Tim shook his head frantically to shut the man up. Amy stopped screaming and sniffled, looking at her aunt suspiciously.  
  
“Really?” she asked in a teary voice.  
  
“I guess.” Ziva shrugged, before scrunching up her face. “Then again, maybe we just get one, to be on the safe side? Since your dad will have Tim’s butt anyway. But if we get the x-ray and have proof that everything’s fine, he may not be as mad.” she remarked, before shaking her head.  
  
“Nah, your dad won’t be angry at Tim. Now come on, let’s get you dressed again and go.”  
Amy looked at her aunt then her uncle, biting her lip before looking at her arm.  
  
“Maybe… maybe we should get it? If Daddy will not be angry at Uncle Tim then.” she muttered, her voice small. Ziva shot the doctor a triumphant look before focusing on her niece again.  
  
“Just to be on the safe side.” she nodded, stroking Amy’s curls and noticing how scared the girl was looking. “Hey, don’t cry. It won’t hurt a bit, I promise. They’ll just move your arm in some positions and that may hurt, but the x-ray itself doesn’t.”  
  
Amy bit her lip, blinking furiously and nodding, trying to be brave.  
  
“If you want to, you can both stay with her.” the nurse offered them, and they immediately took the offer. Tim lifted the girl up and carried her to the room with the x-ray machine, setting her down on a chair before accepting the lead shield for his body. Amy started crying when she saw it, but Tim showed it to her from all sides before putting it on, Ziva doing the same and gently smoothing out Amy’s curls to sooth the child. Tim pointed at the x-ray machine, explaining that it was a special camera that could take pictures of people’s bones and that it would not hurt, just like a normal camera. Still, Amy squeezed his hand hard, sobbing lightly when the doctor positioned the girl’s arm to take the x-rays.  
  
When they were done and Amy was fitted a bright pink cast since she actually had managed to break her arm, they went back to Tim’s house, stopping for ice cream and two rented movies on the way, as a way to make the girl feel better. Amy fell asleep in the middle of the first one already, her head resting in Ziva’s lap.  
  
“Thank you. For coming. I didn’t know what to do, I was horrified and she didn’t want me calming her down.” Tim whispered, turning down the volume of the TV. Ziva looked at the girl, stroking her cheek gently.  
  
“It’s alright, Tim. I would’ve come anyway.” she told him, reaching over Amy’s sleeping form to squeeze his arm. “It’s not your fault, stop blaming yourself.”  
  
Tim shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face.  
  
“I can’t get the picture of her falling out of my head.” he muttered.  
  
“She’s going to be fine. She’s Tony’s daughter with the personality to match, it won’t be her last broken bone.” Ziva told him, giving him a soft smile. Tim returned it, albeit a little anxious. They still needed to call Tony and tell him what had happened, and he was really not looking forward to that conversation.


	15. Tim & Ziva, clothes

Tim lifted the carton up and put it in the trunk of his car before closing it again and turning to look at Ziva. Who was again tugging on the sleeves of her shirt rather nervously.  
  
“Okay, the fridge will be delivered, and so will the bed and closet. We got the TV and computer. What’s next on the list?” he asked her, but to his surprise, she shook her head.  
  
“That’s it. Thank you so much, Tim. I wouldn’t have been able to do this alone, car rentals cost a fortune in this town, and-“  
  
“Ziva.” he interrupted her a little sharply. They had been over this more than once today already, she was constantly thanking him for helping her get furniture for her new apartment, now that she had found one and could leave the Navy Yard. “I told you, it’s no big deal. You’re my friend, and friends help each other out.” he reminded her, his voice softer now. Ziva nodded, giving him a soft smile. “And I remember what it was like, my first apartment and how much stuff I needed and took with me from my parents when I moved for college.” he continued, narrowing her eyes at her. “You’re not nearly halfway done. I know for a fact you’re still missing a washing machine and silverware and other stuff I will remember in time.”  
  
Ziva blushed lightly, shaking her head.  
  
“I don’t… I only have the two payments from NCIS. The first one I used for the apartment and deposit I had to make to get it, and there isn’t enough left for a washing machine. That is, if I want to eat anything this month.” she muttered, looking away. Tim closed his eyes briefly, feeling rather stupid.  
  
“Ziva, if it’s because of the money, that’s not a reason. I can pay for it and you’ll pay me back once you have enough money to be comfortable.” he told her, but again, she shook his head.  
  
“Thank you, but I can’t ask you to pay for my things.”  
  
“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Tim insisted.  
  
“And I am saying no.” Ziva told him rather sharply, drawing a deep breath while she shook her head. “You are a nice person, Tim, and a great friend, but I cannot accept that sort of gift. Or loan, whatever you call it.” she added when he opened his mouth again to protest. “Besides, it’s not as if I have that many clothes to wash anyway, I can do it by hand or use one of the washing salons.”  
  
Tim furrowed his brows at her, before grabbing her hand and pulling her with him, locking the car as he went. Ziva followed him, confused by his sudden change in mood.  
  
“What are you-“  
  
“We’re going clothes shopping for you. Chanukah has eight nights and they will be your early Chanukah presents, so you can pick four pants and four shirts. Or three-five or whatever. I don’t care, as long as it’s eight items. And not just eight pairs of socks.” Tim mock-glared at her, pulling her into the clothing store with him.


	16. Tim & Ziva, new

“Why is it that you’re new at NCIS, yet Tony still calls me Probie?” Special Agent Timothy McGee asked, trotting after Officer Ziva David, the newest addition to their team and Mossad Liaison on their way to the newest crime scene somewhere in the woods. The dark-haired woman chuckled, ducking under a branch and turning just in time to see it hit McGee square in the face.  
  
“I think you are confusing ‘new’ with ‘green’ or ‘inexperienced’, Special Agent McGee.” she grinned at him before speeding up slightly. She wanted to reach the crime scene sometimes today, preferably before sundown.


	17. Tim & Ziva, love

It’s just one word. Simple. Four letters. L. O. V. E. Verb or noun. It’s ridiculous to be scared of it, of saying it out loud, yet everyone she has ever loved and told so has either died or abandoned her.  
  
“I can hear you thinking.” Tim mutters. His hand stops rubbing her bare shoulder and he shifts slightly to get a better look at her face. She’s cuddled close to him, into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. Their legs are tangled under the sheets, skin on skin. Ziva draws a deep breath.  
  
“Sorry. Go to sleep.” she whispers, leaning up to kiss him, the soft sheet slipping down on her naked torso. Tim raises his hand from its spot on her hip and brushed a strand of her curls back against her ear, searching her face.  
  
“You okay?” he asks her, a flash of worry in his green eyes. She molds herself against him and kisses him again, gently, unhurried.  
  
“Yes.” she breathes against his lips before lying down again, snuggling close. She can feel him relaxing under her, slipping into dream land.  
  
“I love you, Tim.” she whispers, her voice barely audible in the dark of his bedroom. She is sure he has already drifted off and jumps slightly in surprise when she hears him answer.  
  
“Love you, too.” he mutters, pulling her even closer, and she can’t help the grin that is spreading on her face.  
  
Maybe, she wasn’t afraid of losing him, but afraid that he didn’t feel the same way about her.


	18. Tim & Ziva, gift

Ziva frowned down at the wrapped present in her hands.  
  
“We said no gifts.” she said, looking up to narrow her eyes at McGee. Who looked slightly nervous.  
  
“I know, but I saw it and just thought of you.” he told her, waiting as she unwrapped it and set aside the paper before opening the box. Inside was purple cloth. Ziva ran her hand over the soft material and almost sighed at the softness. She carefully lifted it out of the box, unfolding the scarf. She just couldn’t resist and wrapped it around her neck, rubbing the end against her cheek briefly, her eyes closed. When she opened them again, she saw McGee watching her, trying to read her reaction, a hopeful look in his eyes.  
  
“It is beautiful, Tim.” she whispered, hugging him in thanks. “Thank you. It must have cost a fortune.” she muttered, extracting herself from his arms and tugging at the garment, unsure if she should really keep it. She needed a new scarf, yes, but when she had gone looking for one, she had noticed the price tags on the soft ones, and they were way out of her price range.  
  
“Nah. Besides, you were shivering at the crime scene the other day.” he shrugged.  
  
Ziva smiled and went in for another hug, kissing his cheek this time.  
  
“Thank you.” she repeated, holding him tight.


	19. Tim & Ziva, vodka

Tim wrapped his arm tighter around Ziva’s waist as they climbed the stairs to her apartment door, the woman more stumbling than walking, her arm slung sluggishly over his shoulders.  
  
“You know, you are a good-” she started, interrupted by a hiccough, “friend, MahGee.”  
  
“Yeah, right.” he returned, leaning her against the wall next to her door. Ziva rested her head back against it, her eyes fluttering close. “Oh no, you don’t get to sleep just yet.” Tim shook his head, gently swatting her cheek with his palm.  
  
“MahGee, let me sleep.” Ziva whined and he rolled his eyes.  
  
“Your keys, Ziva.” her colleague reminded her. “We’re not in your apartment yet. Where are your keys?”  
  
“Pocket.” the Israeli slurred, letting go of him, her arms falling to her sides limply. Tim braced himself and slowly reached into the pocket of her jeans, but to his surprise he found her to be so out of it that she didn’t mind. Until she jumped slightly and he froze.  
  
“Shtopp tiggling.” Ziva breathed into his face and he caught the smell of vodka on her breath. He didn’t even want to guess how many glasses she must’ve had to be like this. His fingers finally closed around the keyring and he pulled them out, unlocking the door and then helping Ziva into her apartment. He sat her down in the kitchen and handed her a glass of water as he went into her bedroom in search of PJs. He was halfway down her hallway when he heard the sound of retching. For a few seconds, Tim wasn’t sure if he was relieved or felt bad for her. Then he remembered that he had left her sitting in her chair and would now have to clean up the mess and his sympathy pretty much vanished. As he entered the kitchen, prepared for the worst, he found her leaning against the counter, her head resting on her arm that lay on it, soft moaning coming from her. He had just opened his mouth to ask her how she was when Ziva leaned back over the sink and continued to empty the contents of her stomach into it.  
  
“Done?” Tim asked her when she finally straightened after must’ve felt like eternity to her. Ziva nodded sheepishly and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her mouth before she turned around. She had visibly paled but some of the color was already returning to her cheeks as Tim held out some shorts and a shirt to her.  
  
“Thanks.” Ziva muttered, not meeting his eyes as she staggered down the hallway to the bathroom. Tim started rinsing the kitchen sink and then cleaned up the broken glass on the floor where she must’ve knocked it over in her hurry to get to the sink. When she didn’t return after a few minutes and the water stopped running, he went to check up on her and found her sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, struggling to put on the pants before she balled them up and threw them in the shower in frustration.  
  
“Need help?” he asked her and Ziva shook her head, making a face at the motion and reaching up to grab her head. He walked over to her, helping her stand and walked her back to her bedroom, folding back the covers for her so she could get in easily. When she finally lay down, he pulled the blanket up for her and reached over to kill the light.  
  
“Thank you, Tim.” Ziva muttered, her eyes closing. He just swallowed and switched off the light, returning to the kitchen to get her a new glass of water that he set down on her bedside table before going to the bathroom to find a plastic bowl he filled with some water in case she got sick again and two painkillers. He set the bowl down on the floor and the painkillers next to her glass before watching her sleep and listening to her snores briefly before he left to go home to his own apartment and get some much needed rest after tonight.


	20. Tim & Ziva, puppy

“Is that your way of telling me you have reconsidered on the kids-front?” Tim raises an eyebrow when he opens the door to Ziva and finds her holding a puppy.“Funny.” she rolls her eyes at him and makes a face when the dog licks her face.  
  
“Stop that.” she growls at the tiny thing before handing it to Tim so she can take off her jacket.  
  
“I found him sitting on the steps of my apartment complex when I got home two days ago. I put letters in every mailbox and even went to a few apartments, but so far, I haven’t been able to find his owner.” she tells him, sighing. “I went to the shelter but they are packed to maximum capacity and I really didn’t want to put him there.” she admits, stroking the puppy’s chin gently, a warm smile forming on her face.  
  
“You do realize that he’s a puppy?” Tim asks her tentatively, shifting said puppy slightly.  
  
“Yes. If I didn’t have eyes I would have known the moment he peed on my couch. For the second time.” Ziva glares at her partner, plucking the puppy from his arms and brushing past him to get into the living room. She sits down on the couch, holding the puppy in her lap and watching as Jethro trots over, sniffing the newcomer and giving a loud bark. The puppy jumps in surprise and gives a low and scared whine, pressing into Ziva.  
  
“Sh, it’s okay, it’s just Jethro.” she assures the small dog, petting him. Tim slowly walks over to her, putting some old newspaper on his couch for protection before Ziva sets the puppy down.  
  
“Does he have a name?” he asks her, letting the puppy sniff his hands and lick them.  
  
“No.” Ziva shakes her head, biting her lip. “I didn’t want to give him one because I thought I’d find his owners, but…” she sighs.  
  
Tim watches her interact with the puppy and resigns himself to his fate.  
  
“You want to keep him.” he observes and Ziva looks up at him sharply, blushing a little as her eyes widen.  
  
“No!” she shakes her head quickly. “No, I don’t. We barely have time for each other and Jethro and he would take even more time. He’s not trained and I don’t have a yard to just let him out during the night so he doesn’t pee everywhere. He’s so small, he shouldn’t be alone during the day, he needs someone who can really look after him… What?” she asks, irritated by the smile on Tim’s face. He just looks down pointedly to where Ziva as pulled the puppy against her thigh and is shielding him from Tim protectively, as if afraid that he’d take him away.  
  
“Oh.” she breathes, pulling back her hand. The puppy slowly makes his way over to Tim, almost falling off the couch in the process. He quickly catches the dog and lifts him up to get a good look at him and the tiny thing gives a short bark and wags his tail in excitement. “Maybe I do.” Ziva whispers, leaning back against the headrest and turning so she can watch Tim with the puppy. He casts her a short look before he gently strokes the little guy’s fur and scratches his ears.  
  
“What do you say, do you wanna stay with us?” Tim asks him as he lifts him up and the puppy whacks his tail excitedly before giving a tiny bark.  
  
“He said yes.” he informs his girlfriend after setting the puppy down and Ziva gives him a soft smile, reaching out her hand towards the small creature.  
  
“I’m sure his owner will love that.” she rolls her eyes, scooting closer to the tiny thing to cuddle with it.  
  
“Okay, then how about you put a notice in everyone’s mailbox every day for a week, and if there’s still no one claiming him, he stays with us.” Tim suggests and Ziva bites her lip, looking down at the puppy as it climbs back into her lap. The dog turns around twice before flopping down and blinking his eyes shut, falling asleep easily.  
  
“Do you really want to take care of a puppy?” Ziva mutters quietly so as not to disturb the little one in her lap. Tim scoots close to her and presses a kiss to her neck.  
  
“Well, it’s supposed to be a good training for having to take care of a baby.” he jokes and Ziva fixes him with a look. “Sorry.” he apologizes, giving a shrug. “Jethro needs a friend, and you’ve already fallen in love with him. He’s cute, look at him, how can you say no to this?” he gestures at the sleeping dog and Ziva gives a soft sigh, leaning back to rest her head on his shoulder.  
  
“Just wait until he pees on your couch.” she mutters before pressing a grateful kiss to his jaw.


	21. Tim & Ziva, childhood picture

Ziva tilted her head to the side and turned around the picture album. They had been doing this for almost two hours, ever since McGee and his father had disappeared to find a Christmas tree in the woods. Not that her husband had been too thrilled about the idea of walking through the cold and mountains of snow, but he was making a real effort to get closer to his father again ever since he and Ziva had gotten engaged.

She had been worried about how his parents would take to her. Sarah was a great girl and accepted her willingly, but still, with Tim not talking to his father for seven years and then slowly starting to mend the bridge, Ziva had feared him getting engaged to a Jewish Israeli would cause a new falling-out with Tim’s Protestant parents. She had been pleasantly surprised, though. Tim’s mother had no reservations against her, on the contrary, Cora had been making a real effort and even asked about kosher recipes when they had first visited them.

“He really was cute.” Ziva laughed when she turned the page and found a picture of Tim grinning at the camera, dressed in a little sailor outfit.

“Oh, he was.” Cora chuckled, tapping the picture in question. “That was when Christopher came home from deployment. Tim had wanted to surprise him with it.” she sighed, a shadow passing over her face.

“He was not impressed?” Ziva softly asked, making the other woman sigh.

“Not really.” she muttered. “He was a good father, but… sometimes he forgot that a little love could do more good than a lot of discipline.”

Ziva bit her lip, trying to figure out if she wanted to get into this with her mother-in-law. What they knew about her family was that she had once had a sister and a brother who had died, as well as her mother and that she was not in contact with her father. They had invited Eli to the small wedding ceremony they had had two years ago, but he hadn’t been able to make it, thus never meeting Ziva’s in-laws.

“I can relate to that.” she settled on instead, looking up when they heard the front door open. Shortly after, Tim and his father came inside, cheeks red from the cold.

“Hey.” Tim greeted his wife and leaned down to steal a quick kiss. “You looking at pictures?” he asked her, flinching when his mother started yelling at him.

“Timothy McGee, will you get out of these wet clothes? You are leaving a trail everywhere!”

“Sorry, Mom.” Tim apologized and quickly ducked out of the room, shooing his father along before he could get yelled at, too. Ziva laughed at shook her head at the two men. Once they returned in freshly changed clothes, she scooted down the couch and Tim wedged between her and the armrest, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“Oh God, did she show you baby pictures?” he groaned when he caught sight of his younger self.

“No, we didn’t go that far back.” Ziva smiled, running her hand over the side. “Did you two find a nice tree?” she asked when her father-in-law appeared.

“Yeah, it’s out on the porch.” Christopher nodded, handing over a cup of warm tea to his son. When Ziva frowned, the man shrugged. “We have to move around the furniture a bit before we can put it up in here.” he explained.

Tim started turning the pages slowly, chuckling from time to time.

“Oh, that’s cute.” Ziva laughed when they got to the Halloween pictures. Sarah was dressed in a frilly blue dress, the perfect imitation of a princess. Her husband’s costume was harder to place. “What are you?” she asked him. Tim frowned down at his younger self before laughing.

“F1 driver.” he told her. “I had to take the helmet off because I kept running into things.” he remembered, making his wife laugh heartily.


	22. Tim & Ziva, picnic

Tim shook his head and leaned back on his hands, turning his face into the sun briefly as he closed his eyes.

He heard Ziva snort and turned to watch her give him a small grin, reaching over the blanket and snatching up an apple slice, eating it.

“When was the last time you had a picnic?” she asked him, her dark eyes twinkling. Tim shrugged.

“Few years ago.” he answered slowly. “I went out of the city with Sarah on Independence Day. We had a picnic and watched the fireworks.”

The Israeli tilted her head to the side, watching him carefully.

“Is that something you used to do as a child?” she softly asked. Tim swallowed, nodding slowly.

“Yeah.” he admitted, clearing his throat before he shook his head. “What about you?”

“What I did as a child?” she wondered, frowning lightly. Tim gave a soft laugh.

“That, too. No, I meant, when was the last time you had a picnic?” he elaborated, watching as the soft frown on Ziva’s face froze before it disappeared, her face becoming a carefully blank mask. He knew that look, she always got it when someone overstepped their boundaries and asked her something private that was too personal, too painful and she didn’t want them to see how close their comments hit. “Ziva?”

His friend shook her head, brushing out a few wrinkles in the blanket before looking over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Ziva, I didn’t mean-” Tim started apologizing, only to be cut off by Tony’s voice in his ear.

“They’re getting ready to leave.” the senior field agent informed them.

“I have eyes, Tony.” Ziva hissed back as she started to pack up their belongings, Tim scrambling to help her and throwing a glance over his shoulder to catch a look at the couple they were tailing.

When he threw their blanket into the car, followed by the basket and sat down in the passenger seat as Ziva turned the ignition and waited for two cars to get between theirs and that of their targets, he still felt bad.

“Look, about what I asked, I’m really sorry if I unintentionally hurt you.” Tim apologized, deciding that letting Ziva know he had not meant to hurt her was more important than not having DiNozzo listening to it. Ziva shook her head, setting the signal and speeding up to catch a yellow light.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.” she assured him, cursing softly when a large transporter cut in front of them. “I lost them, do you have them?” she asked the other half of their team.

“Yeah, boss has mad skills.” Tony’s voice sounded in their ears again and Ziva and Tim breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ziva, McGee, go back to the Navy Yard and go over the pictures you’ve taken.” Gibbs instructed them. Ziva reached up and took out her earpiece before making a sharp u-turn that sent car horn blaring at them. Tim took out his earpiece, too, before reaching behind him to get their basket and the camera, deciding he could get somewhat of a jump start.

“It was after Tali’s death.” Ziva’s soft voice suddenly pulled him from his musings. Her eyes were fixed on the road, but the corners of her mouth were down in a somewhat sad expression. “Ari took me to her favorite place in Haifa. We had a picnic with her favorite food and he read out poems from her favorite author…” she trailed off. “He was trying to cheer me up, I suppose, but all I could think about was vengeance. I made him promise to help me catch the people who had done this to her that day.”

“Did you?” Tim asked her softly. “Catch them?”

Ziva turned her head to look at him briefly, and the expression in her dark eyes sent a cold shiver running down his spine.

“Yes.” she answered, something final in her tone that stopped Tim from asking further questions about it. He watched her briefly before returning his attention to the camera in his hands, wondering if a picnic after the next time they went running together was an option or if that would be too painful for her.


	23. Tim & Ziva, passion

The first time she saw Tim get passionate about something that was not work-related was when he tried to convince her to pursue a relationship with him.

They had been on three dates and Ziva was definitely warming up to the idea of spending more time with him. And in a way, she had known that date number four would be the one where he’d ask her if she thought they had a chance. What she hadn’t been anticipating, though, had been that he had actually prepared a list of pros and cons. She had been tempted to laugh, because really, she had no use for it. She knew she wanted to see where a relationship between them might go and did not need any convincing. But the expression on his face had made her bite down on her tongue hard and listen to him instead, realizing with a start how important this was to him. She almost backed out then, because clearly he already had feelings for her that went way beyond friendship and she was not sure if she’d ever return them at that level –hell, she was just getting used to not thinking of Tim as only a friend.

She watched him wave his hands around animatedly and his eyes sparkle and in the end, shut up his monologue with a kiss, at the same time giving him an answer to his question if she thought that they might have a chance.


	24. Tim & Ziva, family

“Oh my God, she is so precious!” Tim’s mother exclaimed when she saw her first grandchild in person for the very first time. Ziva exchanged a proud look with her husband as he sat the car seat down on the table, opening the straps carefully.

Amy stirred lightly in her sleep and curled her hands into tiny fists, a yawn escaping her before she fell right back asleep.

“How was the drive?” Sarah asked her brother, unimpressed by the infant. She had, after all, seen her niece a few times already, living close to them. Ziva and Tim had merely been apprehensive of tackling the four hour car journey to his parents’ home with a newborn until now.

“Uneventful.” Tim shrugged, grinning down at his daughter. “I’ll go get the portable crib from the car.” he told Ziva, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before he disappeared outside again.

“Look at her eyelashes.” Tim’s mother exclaimed, sitting down on the couch and watching her granddaughter sleep.

“Does she still have brown eyes?” Tim’s father asked, peeking into the car seat. Ziva nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Yes. And it will take a while to change, if they do at all.” she informed them, frowning lightly when Amy make a noise in her sleep and her lips puckered. Ziva checked her watch, calculating how long it had been since the baby had last been fed and figuring that she should be waking up soon and demand another feeding. She was surprised that the sudden absence of the car moving hadn’t already woken up the infant, but then again, Amy could be a pretty sound sleeper. Unless her and Tim were specifically trying not to wake her up, then her ears seemed to transform into hyper-sensitive antennas that caught the faintest of whispers.

“Do you want something to drink?” Sarah offered her and Ziva asked her for some water, flinching when Tim came back into the house and the door banged shut after him. Amy startled in her sleep, her eyes slowly opening and for a second, Ziva wondered if she had ever looked at the tiny human with the same ridiculous expression her in-laws were now wearing. She probably had, she could after all still remember the awe and love that had flooded her when she had held her for the very first time.

Amy kicked her legs under the blanket and made an unhappy sound, prompting Ziva to bend down and carefully lift her out of the car seat.

“Sh, it was just Daddy being careless.” she muttered to the girl, pulling the beanie from her head and pressing a kiss to her soft hair.

“Oh, look at her hair!” Catherine exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand and Ziva gave a soft chuckle.

“Would you like to hold her?” Ziva asked the other woman, feeling Sarah’s surprised eyes on her. She had been reluctant to let anyone else hold the baby, but then again, Catherine was sitting down, and she had raised two children of her own… even though it had probably been a while since she had held an infant.

“May I?” the woman asked and Ziva passed her daughter over carefully, mindful of supporting the girls head. “There you go. Hello, little one.” Catherine greeted her granddaughter, Tim’s father peering over her shoulder and smiling at the baby.

“If they start pestering me about having one of my own again, I will kick your ass.” Sarah muttered to her sister-in-law, handing her the glass of water just when Tim came back from upstairs.

“So she did wake up from that bang, huh?” he muttered.

“Probably a good thing, though, or she won’t sleep tonight at all.” Ziva shrugged, sighing when Amy scrunched up her face in the expression they had come to associate with imminent crying. And their little bundle of joy didn’t disappoint them, only a second later she erupted into cries that showed what an impressive lung capacity she already had. Catherine handed the girl back over to her mother and Ziva excused herself with the baby to go upstairs and feed her.

“How’s having a baby in the house?” Chris asked his son and Tim shrugged.

“Strange. But in a good way.” he mused, tilting his head. “Ziva’s really tired, though.” he admitted, jumping slightly when the phone in his pocket started vibrating and he fished it out, laughing when he saw he had a text from her. “I’ll be right back.” he assured them.

“Take your time!” he heard his mother call after him as he took two steps at a time and knocked on the door of his old bedroom before poking his head in. Ziva had covered herself with a blanket and was sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking up and giving him a tired smile. Tim slipped into the room and locked the door behind him, peeling the blanket away from her shoulder to reveal a nursing Amy. He sat down on the bed and pulled Ziva against him. His wife shifted around, dislodging the baby and resulting in agitated crying when Amy found her source of food being taken away from her.

“Sh, it’s okay.” Tim muttered, stroking the girl’s foot when Ziva got her to latch on again, relaxing against her husband with a sigh. Tim watched them before brushing Ziva’s hair back and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Tired?” he asked her, keeping his voice down to keep from distracting their daughter. Ziva nodded, sighing again.

“Would you mind taking her for an hour?” she asked him, looking down at the baby in her arms. “I need a nap.” she admitted and Tim squeezed her shoulder.

“No problem.”

“I’m sorry, I know it was a long drive and you must be exhausted, but-”

“Hey, stop that.” Tim interrupted her, his voice low but firm. “You let me sleep through the night feedings even though I told it would be okay to wake me. You need a break and I’m still awake. Amy can spend some time with me and her aunt and grandparents while you catch your breath.”

Ziva gave him a grateful smile, carefully dislodging Amy and handing the baby over to her father, who put a burp cloth over his shoulder before lifting the girl up and carefully patting her back as he slowly paced the room. Ziva pulled her shirt back down and ran a hand through her hair, watching her husband and daughter and hiding a yawn behind her hand.

“Do you think it’s too cold to take her outside like this?” Tim asked her and Ziva frowned.

“Probably.” she nodded.

“Then we’ll stay inside.” Tim decided and Ziva rolled her eyes.

“We’ll have to unload the car later, anyway.” she reminded him, but her husband shrugged.

“Yeah, later. Not right now.” he told her, making a face when Amy finally burped. Though it was more the fact that it sounded rather wet and he felt the cloth on his shoulder get heavier that had him pull it, in addition to the smell. “You really need to learn when you have had enough.” he muttered, putting the baby down on the bed briefly and using a clean corner of the cloth to wipe her face. Amy kicked her legs, rubbing her feet together and prompting her mother to laugh when Tim made another face.

“I forgot the diaper bag downstairs.” Ziva apologized and Tim sighed, picking his daughter up again.

“Say bye to Mommy.” he told the girl, leaning in and kissing his wife. “Get some rest.” he muttered against her lips and waiting until Ziva had actually laid down before he went back downstairs to change Amy and spend time with his family.

—

It was Sarah who woke her almost two hours later, startling Ziva who needed a moment to remember where she was. When she asked why Tim hadn’t come and gotten her earlier, her sister-in-law just laughed and told her to come downstairs.

In the living room, Ziva found the reason for her husband’s failure to wake her earlier.

Tim was lying on the couch, his eyes closed, mouth slightly open. He was holding Amy on his chest, carefully cradling her against him. The baby was lying on her stomach, hands fisted tightly into her father’s shirt, her eyes shut.

“So much for ‘I’m awake’.” she muttered, stifling a laugh behind her hand when both father and daughter let out a soft sigh.


	25. NCIS, pregnant

Ziva swallowed thickly before her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

“I, uh…” she muttered, swallowing again and closing her eyes.

“Ziva, it is one in the morning.” her father reminded her, yawning. The woman reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She had been putting this phone call off for as long as she dared. After Gibbs reaction to the news, she had known that telling her father would leave her with a feeling of loss, regret and disappointment.

“I know.” she muttered into the receiver, drawing a shuddering breath. She felt Tim step up behind her and squeeze her shoulder and sniffled light. The line crackled lightly.

“Ziva, are you crying?” her father suddenly asked, worry creeping into his voice. “Did something happen?” he added and she could hear the rustle of papers. It made her give a dry chuckle, after all she had not even tried reaching him at home despite the late hour, but called his office.

“I am pregnant, Papa.” she whispered, clenching her eyes shut, her knuckles turning white as she held onto the receiver with all her might. Tim’s arms wrapped around her and his hands slipped under her shirt, settling on her small bump. Which was the reason why she was telling her father now. It was starting to get noticeable, and Ziva was pretty sure that he still kept tabs on her from time to time. The last thing she needed, after Abby calling the man with questions for a bachelorette party before Ziva had managed to tell Eli about the engagement was her father finding out about his first grandchild from someone else than her.

She heard Eli sigh and a tear slipped past her control. She shook her head, turned and thrust the receiver at her husband before she fled down the hallway, slamming the door to their bedroom behind her. Tim sighed, raising the receiver to his own ear.

“-you, Ziva.” he caught the end of his father-in-law’s reaction.

“Uh, sorry.” Tim told the man, shifting uncomfortably. “She handed me the phone.” he informed Eli.

“In that case, congratulations to you, too.” the man declared and Tim was surprised to notice the joyful tone.

“Thank you?” he frowned in confusion.

“Do you have names picked out yet?” Eli asked and Tim shook his head.

“Not yet, no. And I have to go now, I need to…” he trailed off, searching for an excuse.

“Check on Ziva.” Eli sighed. “Please tell her that I am happy for her. Both of you.” he asked Tim. “I have always wanted grandchildren.” he added, his voice barely audible and Tim found himself swallowing thickly.

“I will.” he promised, hanging up shortly after and trying the door. When it opened, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn’t locked the room.

He found his wife lying on the bed, hugging a pillow close, wiping at the tears on her face. Tim slowly approached her and sat down on the bed, watching her shortly before he reached out to squeeze her shoulder. Ziva closed her eyes, sniffling before she slowly sat up, allowing him to hug her. She grabbed a tissue from the box on her nightstand and blew her nose.

“Did he yell a lot?” she asked, her voice husky with tears. Tim shook his head, brushing her hair from her face and making her look at him.

“Actually, no. He wanted me to tell you how happy he is.” he told her, his heart aching when his wife snorted. “He sounded like he meant it, Ziva.” he added, his voice soft. Ziva’s head snapped up and she stared at him, her dark eyes wide in surprise.

“He did?” she asked, her voice quivering and Tim nodded.

“Yeah. He asked if we already have names picked out.” he told her, feeling his heart swell when his wife’s lips twitched in an insecure smile.

“Really?” she breathed, hope shining in her eyes.

“Really.” Tim confirmed, unable to stop the smile when Ziva’s face broke out into one before she hugged him tightly, hiding her face against his neck. “It’s gonna be fine.” he promised her, tightening his hold on her when he felt her nod against his skin.


	26. Tim & Ziva, have mercy

A shudder ran down Tim’s spine. Not the first since they had entered the large mansion after cutting off the power. And it probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

He could hear Ziva’s slow breathing at his back as they made their way through the rooms, shining their flashlights in the corners. He jumped when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and whirled around, feeling embarrassment washing over him when he discovered that it was just an abnormally large rat sitting on the fireplace.

“I’m starting to feel like Tony.” he muttered under his breath and heard Ziva give a dry chuckle.

“Not just you.” she admitted and he noticed how she kept inching closer to him, completely tense. There was something about this house that was making Tim’s hair stand on end, and the other members of the team seemed to feel it, too. Gibbs and Tony had taken off in the other direction as they hoped to cover more ground faster if they went in pairs, but none of them had been willing to go alone in any of the rooms.

Ziva nodded in the direction of the next door and they made their way through it, pausing when they found themselves in the kitchen. Ziva’s flashlight flickered over the walls and settled on the door to the basement. She turned her head and raised an eyebrow at him and Tim found himself sighing.

“Boss, we found the basement.” he muttered.

“Want me to hold you hand, McGee?” the other man’s voice came through their earpieces and Ziva snickered, giving her colleague a sympathetic look.

“No. Sorry.” Tim apologized, training his gun on the doorway. Ziva switched off her flashlight and put it away before she grabbed hold of the door and pulled it open. Nothing happened. The two released the breath that they had been holding and then began their descend down into the damp room, Tim’s flashlight sending the rats scurrying.

“No one down here.” Ziva muttered. Tim sighed, holstering his gun and turning around to go back upstairs, only to find her frozen on the staircase.

“Tim.” she breathed and he turned around to see that her flashlight was trained on an oversized freezer. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes briefly, commanding his heart to slow down. He opened his eyes again and slowly walked down the stairs, Ziva following behind him. They went over to the freezer, grabbing hold of the latch and looking at each other. Tim mouthed a ‘three, two, one’ and they both lifted their end at the same time, Ziva aiming her gun inside as Tim shone his flashlight at the contents. Which he immediately regretted.

He heard Ziva gasp and the latch got heavy in his hands as she spun away, pressing her hand over her mouth and drawing a ragged breath as Tim pressed his eyes shut.

“God have mercy.” he muttered when he blinked them open again, staring at the pile of decapitated heads inside the freezer.


	27. Tim & Ziva, visit

Tim folded up his shirt and placed it in his bag, turning around in surprise when there was a knock on the door to his hospital room. He found Ziva leaning against the doorjamb.

“All packed?” she asked him, a soft smile playing on her face.

“I think so, yeah.” Tim nodded, furrowing his brows in confusion before he shrugged and went back to the bathroom to double check he actually had all his things. When he got back, he found that Ziva was holding his jacket open for him. Tim narrowed his eyes at her before he turned around with a sigh, allowed her to help him with putting it on. His abdomen still hurt and he was kind of afraid of pulling his stitches, so her help was appreciated. Though his confusion sky-rocketed when he turned back around to thank her and found she had grabbed his bag and was holding the door open for him.

“Um, Ziva…” he muttered and the Israeli raised an eyebrow pointedly.

“Your car is still at the Navy Yard.” she reminded him, tilting her head towards the hallway. With an eyeroll, Tim accepted his fate and left the room, waiting for her outside.

Ziva managed to fool him for almost the entire car ride. Which wasn’t that hard, given that they both lived in Silver Springs, and given that the painkillers he had been given were making him rather groggy. But when she drove past his street, he perked up.

“Ziva, you missed the turn.” he muttered, reaching up to rub his hand over his eyes.

“No, I didn’t.” she informed him, pulling into the parking lot in front of her apartment building and killing the engine. McGee groaned, shaking his head.

“Okay, I appreciate the offer, but I am fine. And I want to-”

“Go home and sleep. I get that, and you will be alone because I have to get back to work anyway.” Ziva told him, turning in her seat. “But the doctor said to take it easy for a few days, and as long as that stands, you are going to sleep in my guest room and let me look after you.” she said, her voice leaving no room for debate. Tim shook his head, looking out across the parking lot.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he asked her with an exasperated sigh and watched as Ziva’s face lit up a little.

“No, you don’t.” she confirmed, getting out of her car and walking around it to open the door for him.

Upstairs, he was greeted by a rather excited Jethro, who kept jumping up at him and barking and trying to lick his face. Ziva made him a sandwich before she went back to work, leaving him with his dog. When she got home hours later, he had had a nice nap and prepared them something to eat for dinner, though she kept pushing her food around.

“Not hungry?” Tim asked her carefully and Ziva looked up in surprise, as if she had forgotten he was there. She slowly shook her head.

“It’s delicious, really, but I don’t have much of an appetite.” she told him, getting up to clear the table. When Tim went over to peruse her DVD collection for a movie, she faked a yawn and told him she’d just go to bed but that he was welcome to watch some TV. McGee frowned at her sudden change in mood but didn’t say anything, having learned that pushing Ziva only resulted in her lashing out or shutting down, and neither prospect seemed appealing to him.

He was halfway through Matrix (how on earth he had managed to convince her to buy that was still a mystery to him) when Jethro suddenly perked up and started whining softly. Tim frowned at the dog.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked him, reaching out and ruffling the dog’s fur. Jethro gave him a baleful look before he jumped from the couch and went over to Ziva’s bedroom door, sitting down in front of it as he started to whine again. “Jethro, no. Stop that.” Tim reprimanded him, pausing the movie. “Come back here.” he commanded. The German Shepard threw him a look before he stood, pacing in front of the door, his tail between his legs as he gave another whine that ended in a bark.

“Jethro, no!” Tim exclaimed, standing from the couch and walking over just as the dog jumped up and tried to open the door. McGee grabbed his collar and pulled him away. “Bad dog.” he said, surprised when Jethro gave another bark and tried to scratch at the door. “Stop that, Jethro, no-”

But the dog had started barking loudly, making Tim throw his head back and groan.

“What on earth has gotten into you?!” he asked the dog, who just continued on, pacing around. “Stop it, you’re gonna wake Ziva!” he commanded, trying to shush the German Shepard by grabbing his snout. Surprisingly, Jethro calmed down and when Tim let go of him, his tongue lolled out and Jethro panted, and Tim could’ve sworn that the dog was actually proud of himself.

Just then the door to Ziva’d bedroom opened and Tim wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“What’s going on?” Ziva asked, her voice husky with sleep. Tim turned around to apologize and froze when he caught sight of her face. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were tear tracks on her skin in addition to dark rings under her eyes.

“I… he’s acting crazy.” Tim stammered as Ziva trotted over to the couch and sat down. Jethro went over to her and licked her face when she leaned down to stroke his fur. “I’m sorry, I tried to shut him up…” he trailed off when Ziva shook her head.

“It’s okay, he didn’t wake me.” she muttered, glancing at Tim out of the corner of her dark eyes before they settled on the TV. “What are you watching?”

“Matrix.” he answered, searching her face. “Though I can put on something-”

“No.” Ziva quickly shook her head, patting the couch beside her. “No, I think it’s time for you to explain this to me again.” she decided. Tim hesitated briefly before he sat down next to her and started the movie from the beginning again, feeling Ziva shift around on the couch until she had found a comfortable position. One that for some reason meant that she had her head resting on his shoulder and was holding his hand in a vice-like grip.

“Ziva-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she shut him down, drawing a shuddering breath. “Let’s just, just watch the movie.” she asked him, her voice husky with tears.

Tim drew a slow breath.

“Okay.” he muttered, leaning back so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders, feeling her relax further into him. When Morpheus offered Neo the choice between the two pills, Tim glanced at Ziva to find that her eyes were closed and she had fallen back asleep. With a soft smile, he turned down the volume and reached up to pull the afghan down around them.


	28. Tony & Ziva, disaster

He watched as Ziva raised the spoon to her mouth, gently blowing on it before tasting the sauce. She had an immense amount of control over her facial muscles, so it was a sure sign that something was off when he saw her flinching and make a brief face for a second. He threw his head back and groaned.  
  
“It’s not that bad!” she immediately told him. He shook his head, taking the spoon from her.  
  
“I can’t believe you don’t like the sauce. It’s my grandmother’s recipe!” he exclaimed, stirring the sauce lightly.  
  
“I said it’s not that bad, Tony.” Ziva repeated, snuggling into his side. “Just a little… weird. Sweet.” she added thoughtfully. He stopped stirring and looked down at her, a horrible suspicion dawning on him. Quickly, he tasted the sauce and made a face.  
  
“This is disgusting!” he said, grabbing his glass of wine to wash away the taste. Ziva stared at him.  
  
“But I am not allowed to make a face?” she asked, her voice incredulous. Tony shook his head, taking the sauce and dumping it into the sink. “Tony-“  
  
“I won’t force you to eat this disaster.” he shook his head, rinsing the pot. “I’m sorry, I mixed up salt and sugar.” he apologized, kissing her forehead once he had placed the pot down, hugging her to him. She snuggled up against him, groaning lightly. “What?”  
  
“We don’t have anything to go with the noodles for dinner now.” she chuckled into his chest, drawing a dramatic groan from him in turn.


	29. Tony & Ziva, star

Ziva gave a content sigh, snuggling into his chest. They were both silent, soaking up each other’s presence. Tony moved from toying with a strand of her hair to her necklace, twisting the pendant in his fingers. Ziva reached up, slapping his hand away gently.  
  
“Where’d you get it?” Tony asked, his voice strangely loud in the dark and silence of his bedroom. Ziva drew a deep breath, gently tracing the star that was lying against her skin.  
  
“My mother gave it to me for my bat mitzvah.” she told him, her voice soft. He felt her shiver against him and pulled her closer, kissing her temple affectionately.  
  
“It’s beautiful.” he muttered against her skin, hugging her to him as they both slowly drifted off to sleep.


	30. Tony & Ziva, shine

Tony slowly bent down to pick up the extension cord.  
  
“Ready?” he asked Ziva, who rolled her eyes slightly before nodding. She crossed her arms over her pullover, watching as Tony plugged in the Christmas lights and the Christmas Tree lit up. He grinned and took two long strides to stand next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.  
  
“Okay, it looks pretty good.” she admitted. “Still, I do not understand why you made such a big deal out of this.”  
  
Tony shook his head, watching her. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not about the lights on the tree and how they make it look.”  
  
Ziva frowned and turned her head to look at her boyfriend. “What’s it about, then?” she asked.  
  
“It’s about how they make your eyes shine.” he muttered, bending down to kiss her.


	31. Tony & Ziva, dog

She wants to be mad at him. Really. But he makes it so hard when he tries to be sweet and caring. So she drops her backpack and walks over to where he is sitting next to the puppy. She flops down next to him and the little dog walks over to climb into her lap, sniffing at her with interest. She lets it sniff her hand and lick it before she gently strokes the soft fur, picking up the puppy and cuddling it.  
  
“I’m really sorry, Ziva.” he whispers and she can feel the tears burn in her eyes as she hides her face in the fur briefly before setting the puppy down again and letting it wander off. She scoots closer to Tony, resting her head on his shoulder.  
  
“I am, too.” she breathes and feels him wrap his arm around her shoulder, kissing her hair gently. The puppy gives a high bark, whacking its tail at them, and she can’t help the teary laugh that is bubbling up inside her.


	32. Tony & Ziva, wet

Tony shook his head and took of his tie, wringing it out. He glared at the dark clouds overhead and the rain pouring down. Ziva took of her shoes next to him and tried squeezing out her hair, laughing lightly. She was flushed from the short sprint to the gazebo they had made when the clouds opened and the rain came pouring down on them. People were running all over the place, trying to find some place dry to wait out the rain shower that had just hit D.C.  
  
“Come on, Tony. It’s not that bad.” Ziva giggled, turning to him and running her hands through his wet hair. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist.  
  
“I guess not. I just wanted your first Independence Day as a US citizen to be perfect, complete with picnic and fireworks. And not the disaster that this has now turned into.” he mumbled. Ziva shook her head, leaning up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his.  
  
“It is perfect, Tony.” she told him, beaming at him with sparkling eyes. He eyed her skeptically, but she just pulled him down for another kiss. Well, if she could be happy about this day, even though they were soaked to the bone, then he supposed he could, too.


	33. Tony & Ziva, kiss

Ziva furrowed her brow.  
  
“How did we get here?” she asked.  
  
“Horny teenagers finding the body.” Tony answered, snapping another picture of the crime scene. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer the question.” he added, looking at her as she bend down to bag evidence. When she straightened, she found he was still staring at her.  
  
“What?!” she asked, exasperated.  
  
“So Miss Da-veed, when did you have your first kiss? And more importantly, who was the lucky guy?” her partner asked, wagging his eyebrows. Ziva rolled her eyes at him and went to have a look around the scene, Tony on her heels. She found that it was rather had to ignore him when he was constantly breathing down her neck. After a few minutes, she whirled around to fix him with a glare, finding him looking at her hopefully. She sighed. This wasn’t going to end any time soon.  
  
“Shmuel Rubinstein. I was eleven.” she told him, thinking that she would now be able to return to her work. And for a second, it appeared to be the case, Tony’s face lit up and he filed the information away for later questioning. But then his brow knitted in confusion.  
  
“Hold on a second, Shmuel Rubinstein?” he asked, frowning at her. She sighed.  
  
“Yes, Tony.” she nodded.  
  
“Isn’t that the guy you decked because he said he liked you?” her partner wondered and she groaned inwardly. She should have known that he would commit that one to memory.  
  
“Yes.” she confirmed, returning to her work.  
  
“But if you decked him, why did you kiss him years later?” Tony followed after her and she rolled her eyes.  
  
“I did not say it was me who kissed him, Tony.” Ziva shook her head, turning around to face him again. “He was rather… persistent in his pursuing of me.”  
  
Tony snorted. “Bet that didn’t fare too well with Ziva David, ninja in the making.” he grinned at her.  
  
To his surprise, there was suddenly a soft smile playing on her lips.  
  
“Actually, it did. Seeing as years later, I went to prom with him.” she shrugged, smiling to herself as she turned and made for the NCIS van, Tony yelling after her for more information.


	34. Tony & Ziva, taste

There were a lot of faults she could find with Tony. He was obnoxious. He didn’t know boundaries. He was annoying. He didn’t have a concept of privacy. He constantly pushed her buttons and really got on her nerves.  
  
Still, he was her partner and had her back. Which was how she came to be sitting on his couch, her eyes puffy from crying as he handed her a cup of hot tea before sitting down next to her and offering her a new box of Kleenex.  
  
“I just don’t understand.” she sniffled, blowing her nose and taking a sip of her tea. “What did I do that made him run like everyone else?”  
  
Tony sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hugging her to him. She drew her legs back up on the couch and let herself lean into him, seeking his comfort. For once, she didn’t want to be the strong one, the one without emotions, who never broke down or cried.  
  
“Well, I could say that you have no taste in men.” he started and she found herself tearing up again. He squeezed her shoulder hard. “But that’s not true. He didn’t have any taste in women. If he had, he would still be dating you.” her partner added. Ziva looked at him, sniffling and then gave him a soft smile.  
  
“Thank you.” she whispered.  
  
“Anytime, Ziva.” Tony returned. “And if you want me to break his legs in return for your heart, just give me his name and address and consider it done.”  
  
And he definitely managed to make her laugh, no matter how bad things were.


	35. Tony & Ziva, behave

“Behave yourself, Tony.“ Ziva muttered as they watched Jenny and Gibbs in heated discussion.  
  
“Come one, he’s almost asking for a comment.” her partner whined. “If he wants to keep it private, they could use her office. It comes with a rather handy lock.” Tony added and Ziva elbowed him in the ribs. Just then, the two people they were watching stopped hissing at each other and Jenny stalked off to the stairs while Gibbs went rushing past them, grabbing his gun and badge before leaving for a coffee run.  
  
“Wow. Sparks fly when those two clash.” Tony whistled, watching the retreating form of his boss. Ziva shook her head.  
  
“I am not sure if those are good sparks.” she muttered, returning to her desk. Tony stared at her before narrowing his eyes, following her and looming over her as she tried to focus her attention on her job again.  
  
“You know something.” he declared with a solemn voice. “Spill.”  
Ziva’s fingers stopped flying over her keyboard and she glanced up at him before resuming her work.  
  
“No.” she told him, her voice leaving no room for argument. But he wouldn’t be Tony DiNozzo if he let that stop him.  
  
“Come on, Zee-vah. If I knew I would tell you.” he almost begged, resting his hands on her desk to brace his weight as he leaned in closer.  
  
“That is the difference between you and me, Tony. I do not gain pleasure from gossiping about the private life of my friends.” she told him with a pointed look. Tony raised his eyebrow.  
  
“So you and Jenny are friends then.”  
Ziva suddenly stopped typing and grabbed his tie, pulling him down to her level as he yelped.  
  
“Yes. We are friends. And I get very angry when people gossip about my friends. Did I make myself clear?” she asked, glaring into his eyes. Tony gulped and nodded.  
  
“Crystal.” he wheezed. Ziva gave him a narrow-eyed look before letting him go. He stood, coughing and quickly loosened his tie before returning to his own desk to mull this new piece of information over in his head. He really needed to figure out a way to get the Israeli to talk if he wanted information on what had gone down in Europe between the Boss and the Director.


	36. Tony & Ziva, patient

“What the… What _is_ all this?” Ziva asked, watching as Tony drew item after item from his backpack.  
  
“Food. And travel games.” he told her, holding up a travel version of Scrabble and shaking the box at her.  
  
“I have eyes.” Ziva growled. “What I meant was, why did you bring all this?” she rephrased her question.  
  
“Because this is going to take hours. And I am not the most patient man there is.” he admitted, toying with the game in his lap. Ziva opened her mouth but then closed it again. She threw down the magazine she had just opened to occupy herself and changed seats so she was sitting next to her partner. Quickly, she snatched up the playing cards and shuffled the deck.  
  
“Go Fish.” she told him as she started handing out the cards and he beamed at her before picking his up.  
  
Six hours and thirteen games of Go Fish, two games of Scrabble and one attempt at Clue later, a shaking Jimmy walked out in scrubs. The team rose to their feet, Abby nudging McGee who had dozed off a few minutes ago.  
  
Ducky’s assistant was grinning at them, running his hand through his curls, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  
  
“We can’t read minds, Palmer.” Gibbs reminded the young man with an indulgent smile.  
  
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Jimmy apologized.  
  
“Palmer!” the team yelled in unison when he still failed to talk.  
  
“Right. Sorry.” the young man stuttered. “It’s a boy.” he told them and Abby and Tony broke into loud cheers, high-fiving before Abby launched herself at the new father, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. Tony thumbed his back as the others shook Jimmy’s hand, congratulating him and Breena.


	37. Tony & Ziva, aim

She pressed herself into his back, tapping his left elbow gently and putting a hand between his shoulder blades so he drew down his shoulders. He could feel his extended left arm begin to shake from the effort of keeping it straight while the string was drawn back. To his relief, her hand gently guided his right elbow back and he followed the motion, following through and letting the bowstring slip through his fingers.  
  
The arrow whizzed through the air before embedding itself in the target almost dead center. He let out a cheer, throwing up his bow arm and Ziva ducked away before he could accidentally hit her with the bow.  
  
“See, I told you. It’s not just about aim.” she said, a smile on her face that could only be described as proud. He grinned at her, nodding eagerly.  
  
“Yeah, you’re right. I understand why you like it so much, but I didn’t think it would be this hard.” he admitted, setting down the bow and following her to retrieve his arrows. Ziva went to her target and pulled hers out before joining him at his where he was still counting the rings and adding up his points.  
  
“It takes serious concentration. Most people are exhausted after practice when they first take up the sport, even though it’s not that physically demanding. It’s the mental aspect, the controlling of movements you don’t really think about most of the time that makes it a challenge.” she nodded when they walked back to their bows and picked them up again, ready for another round.  
  
This time, he was going to aim for getting the same score as her, if not more.


	38. Tony & Ziva, feel

“Tell me how I am supposed to feel, Tony.“ Ziva shouted at him throwing her hands in the air in frustration. He slammed his drawer shut, glaring at her silently. “Great, now you don’t even have the decency to say anything.”  
  
“What would you want me to say, Zee-vah?!” he yelled at her. “Because I’m pretty sure every single thing would just have you explode again.”  
  
Ziva visibly recoiled from him, her face becoming a mask devoid of emotion. She stared at him before shaking her head and leaving the bullpen in direction of the elevators.  
  
“That was rich.” McGee muttered and Tony turned to face him, almost happy at the thought of having found a target for his pent-up anger.  
  
“How about you keep your mouth shut?” he suggested. “I remember a certain someone who wouldn’t want Abby finding out he went to a strip club.”  
  
McGee looked up from his computer screen, raising an eyebrow. “Blackmail. Original. Too bad Abby knows. Unlike you, I told her you had dragged me along to your friend’s bachelor party.” the younger agent said before turning back to his work. “Besides, if I hadn’t already told her, I’m pretty sure Ziva would have taken that out of your hand, so really, there was no point in threatening to tell her.”  
Tony groaned and slumped into his desk chair, hiding his face in his hands.  
  
“What do I do now?”  
  
“Apologize.” Tim shrugged. “Buy lots of roses and a card and have them delivered. And tell Gibbs before he hears it from her. I think he might just have your ass for that one.”  
  
Tony reached up to headslap himself before he went in search of their boss to explain just why he had gone to a bachelor party at a strip club when he was just two weeks away from his one year anniversary with Ziva.


	39. Tony & Ziva, jazz

He bit his lip quickly to keep himself from letting out a yelp as Ziva stepped onto his foot. Hard.  
  
“If you want to ever touch anything again, move. Your. Hand.” she hissed at him through clenched teeth, the nails of her hand digging into his shoulder painfully. He quickly moved his hand from where it was resting close to her rear a little up on her back. His partner nodded once as they continued to sway to the soft Jazz tunes coming from the band.  
  
“No sign of him, boss.” Tony muttered, reaching up to adjust the glasses camera he was wearing. He continued to dance with his partner, keeping an eye on the dancefloor. He twirled Ziva around so she could look around the room without drawing suspicion to them, but when she was back in his arms, she shook her head lightly.  
  
“I didn’t catch him, either.” she whispered. Tony looked down at her and caught a glimpse down her dress. Quickly, he raised his eyes again, but the sharp jab he felt in his side informed him that she had noticed his wandering eyes. He couldn’t stifle the yelp that escaped him.  
  
“DiNozzo, get out of there. Before you get yourself killed.” Gibbs’s voice carried over their earpieces accompanied by the stifled laughter of McGee.


	40. Tony & Ziva, name

Ziva frowned at the wrinkly creature in her lap. The big dark eyes and somewhat stupid look made it quite endearing, she had to admit.  
  
“He needs a name.” Tony told her, rummaging through his fridge. The Israeli raised her head and narrowed her eyes at what she could see of his back.  
  
“One, how can you know it’s a he? And two, it is not my responsibility to name… this thing.” she informed him, standing and placing the creature on the couch, big eyes following her. She attempted her patented glare, but it was to no avail. On the contrary, the thing whined and tried to get closer to her. With a sigh, she picked it up and carried it to the kitchen. Where she found her partner mixing something in a bowl of what she was sure she did not want to know the ingredients.  
  
“But he likes you.”  
  
“Just because he hasn’t peed on me doesn’t mean he likes me. He emptied his bladder on you, I think I am safe for an hour or so.” she rolled her eyes. Tony scrunched up his face at the memory of his soiled jogging clothes before bending and placing the bowl down on the kitchen tiles. Ziva bend down and set the small pug down close to it, waiting. The dog sniffed at the contents before turning away pointedly, trotting back to her and sitting down right in front of her.  
  
“See, he likes you.” Tony grinned at her, but she turned and stalked from the room, the dog trotting after her. “Hey, what are you doing?” he asked her, following her and watching as she picked up his phone.  
  
“Calling the shelter and police to inform them we found a dog at the park. And then I will leave to go shower. I am sure you and him-“ she nodded in the direction of the dog, “have a lot to talk about. I wouldn’t want to intrude on any guy talk.” she added, turning from her partner as the phone was answered on the other end. As she described the dog, Tony bend down and petted the little guy.  
  
“Don’t worry, if your master doesn’t want you back, I’m sure we can find a way to convince her to keep you.” he muttered to the animal whose tongue lolled out in a rather stupid grin that Tony couldn’t help laughing at.


	41. Tony & Ziva, moan

“Ziva?” he called her name. Or more like, he hissed it into the darkness as his eyes slowly adjusted. Why did the emergency response teams always have to kill the lights before the invaded a house? He didn’t contemplate the answer, because his partner hadn’t answered yet. The brief seconds he had had between regaining consciousness and the lights going out, he had been confronted with her still body lying on the floor, her back turned to him.  
  
“Ziva!” he tried again, louder this time, pulling his hands and rattling the handcuffs against the radiator. “Ziva, come on!” He was getting worried. Shouts were sounding from upstairs and he heard shots being fired. He didn’t even know if she had still been breathing, if she-  
  
A low moan echoed through the chaos upstairs. There was some scraping a few feet to his left where she had been lying. Another moan, more pained this time and a hiss.  
  
“Ziva?” he muttered.  
  
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tired and exhausted. He could make out her shadow as she slowly managed to rise to her knees, her hands still behind her back. Apparently, she had also been cuffed.  
  
“I think that’s the rescue team.” Tony informed her.  
  
“Think?” Ziva muttered, groaning in pain as she tumbled to the ground again.  
  
“Hey, easy. I saw him clock you pretty hard before he got me.” Tony told her. Just then, the door to the basement burst open and both flinched away from the sudden brightness of the flashlights trained on their faces.  
  
“Got them!” they heard McGee’s voice and Tony was sure he had never been as relieved to hear the Probie. The younger agent immediately made his way to Ziva and looked her over, helping her up with a member of the SWAT team and getting her out of the basement. Just as they disappeared through the doorway, Gibbs got in his line of vision, checking his eyes briefly before looking at the handcuffs.  
  
“Yours?” the boss asked him and Tony frowned down at them.  
  
“Probably.” he nodded. “Boss, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see him coming before it was already too late. He surprised us and then he had Ziva down and I-“  
  
“Don’t need to hear it, DiNozzo. Save it for your report.” the silver haired man shook his head, taking the key from a SWAT team member and opening his handcuffs. Tony rubbed his wrists and stood, at least he attempted to, but his knees turned to jell-o before he had even straightened completely. Gibbs caught him effortlessly.  
  
“Now let’s get you checked out, DiNozzo.” he said, carefully helping Tony back to the stairs and up to the ambulance waiting for them.


	42. Tony & Ziva, bone

Ziva David was fuming. Which did not happen often. But her new partner, Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, seemed to have a certain talent for invoking her wrath.  
  
“DiNozzo!” she yelled as she strode into the bullpen, throwing her backpack down carelessly. The NCIS agent gulped and stood from his chair, careful to keep the desk between himself and his Mossad partner.  
  
“Yeah?” he muttered and saw her narrow her eyes at him. Not good. So not good.  
  
“I have some feathers to pick with you.” Ziva informed him, stalking over to his desk. Tony quickly made his way around it, grabbing his chair to keep some furniture between them, something that would hopefully slow her down in case she charged and give him a split second to make his escape.  
  
“Bones.” he corrected her and the Israeli stopped dead in her tracks, a confused expression on her face. “You got a bone to pick with me.” he informed her and her face lit up briefly. He saw her file away the information for later use before she returned to glaring at him. “What have I done now?!” he asked her, his voice taking on a shrill note.  
  
“You used my computer!” she pointed out and he quickly wracked his brain. Yes, she had granted him brief access to her computer because he was fried and he needed to check his email… he hadn’t downloaded any porn on it or anything, so why was she- “Oh.” he breathed.  
  
“Today is not your lucky day.” Ziva nodded and Tony abandoned the chair and made a dash for the stairs, Ziva following him hot on his heels.  
  
“What has gotten into them now?” Gibbs asked, having just returned from his coffee run. McGee shook his head slightly to tear himself away from the memory of Tony shrieking like a girl and running for his life, his partner following him.  
  
“Ziva called me because she was getting junk mail. We discovered that Tony surfed some… adult sites while using her laptop and forgot to log out of her email before he did it.” McGee informed his boss. Gibbs shook his head, chuckling and sat down at his desk, taking a sip of his coffee.  
  
“What do you think she’s going to do with him, Boss?” the younger agent asked.  
  
“Whatever it is, it probably has something to do with DiNozzo’s junk.”


	43. Tony & Ziva, smile

Tony frowned lightly, shaking his head. Okay, he would have to turn up his charm even more. He cleared his throat and then made another face. Still nothing from the baby sitting in the carrier on his desk.  
  
“Oh, come on!” he cried, burying his face in his hands briefly. “That must have been funny.” he muttered, then tried the old peek-a-boo. Still, the boy merely blinked his big eyes at him before opening his mouth in a wide yawn. Soft laughter carried across the bullpen and Tony glared at his partner.  
  
“It seems you have lost your touch, Tony.” Ziva grinned,  trying to muffle her laughter behind her hand. “It’s a shame, really.” she added when another attempt of his failed.  
  
“What’s a shame, guys?” Jimmy asked, walking into the bullpen with a heated bottle. Tony quickly shook his head at Ziva, but the Israeli didn’t notice. Or chose to ignore him. He was pretty sure it was the latter.  
  
“He has been trying to get Sam to smile at him for the past ten minutes.” she informed Jimmy as he picked up his son and started feeding him. Sam blinked at his father, sucking greedily as Jimmy sat down in the chair Tony had  vacated.  
  
“It’s still random and pretty rare when he smiles.” Jimmy told them, keeping his eyes on the baby.  
  
“Ha!” Tony exclaimed, sticking his tongue out at his partner. Ziva rolled her eyes.  
  
“Of course you would jump at the chance to blame Sam’s lack of smiling on something else. Face it, Tony, you are not as funny as you think you are.” she told him.  
  
“But you would do so much better, wouldn’t you?” Tony challenged her and Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. Jimmy was burping Sam, watching the two partners anxiously.  
  
“You bet I would.”  
  
“Really? I wanna see you try.” Tony responded, crossing his arms. Ziva walked over to Jimmy, holding her hands out for the baby. The man swallowed thickly.  
  
“Guys…”  
  
“I will not drop him, Jimmy.” Ziva promised, her voice solemn and he sighed, handing Sam over. Ziva gently stroked the boys back, whispering something in his ear as his chin rested against her shoulder. Tony snorted when nothing happened, but Ziva narrowed her eyes at him before saying something else to Sam. Who kicked his legs excitedly, his face breaking into a big smile. Her partner simply gaped at her.  
  
“It would seem I have the magic touch.” Ziva muttered, kissing Sam’s temple with a look of smug triumph on her face.


	44. Tony & Ziva, shooting

Tony looked down on the report.  
  
“Okay, what happened when you went to question Arnolds?” he asked, causing Ziva to roll her eyes.  
  
“Tim-” a cough from Tony interrupted her, and she cleared her throat. “Special Agent McGee was the one who wanted to drive. I let him. We left the Navy Yard at 1230 and were at Arnolds’ house around 1320, where we rang the bell.”  
  
“Did you say you were federal agents?” Tony asked her and Ziva clenched her jaw.  
  
“Yes.” she pressed out, taking a deep breath. “Tony, this is ridiculous. Arnolds tried to shoot us through the door, McGee pulled me down, he came after us when we tried to take cover, I shot him. It’s all in the report, I don’t see-“  
  
“I am your team leader, Ziva.” he interrupted her, his green eyes hard. “Yes, you killed Arnolds, but surprise, you’re not an NCIS agent. You’re a Mossad Liaison Officer. And I am responsible for your actions in the field. I sent you and McGee to question a suspect and now the suspect is dead. I didn’t make the rules, I just have to follow them.” he ground out and she visibly deflated.  
  
“I am sorry.” Ziva apologized, her voice softer. It had barely been two weeks since Gibbs had left, they were still trying to adjust, to find their footing. Taking orders from Tony was hard, but she could only imagine how hard it was for him. If he needed her to just be an agent right now, she would be an agent, his agent. So she took a deep breath.  
  
“When Special Agent McGee rang the doorbell-” she continued with her report, trying not to think about how Gibbs would have taken her word and compared her report to McGee’s before getting over this incident and moving on.


	45. Tony & Ziva, shopping

Tony frowned lightly. The price was pretty steep, and this wasn’t actually what he’d been looking for. Yet he liked the color and the design. Granted, it was a far cry from ‘manly’ but then again, he was willing to overlook that little fact in favor of the whole package. Plus, he better get used to a bit of red and pink in his life now…  
  
He ran his hand over the seat cushion. Smooth against the skin of his hand.  
  
He tugged on the straps hard. Nothing ripped, the material didn’t cut into his skin.  
  
Tested the belt buckle. It didn’t open and he couldn’t get it to open with only one hand.  
  
“Tony.”  
  
He looked up from the car seat he was inspecting to see Ziva shift uncomfortable on her feet.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Will you finally decide on one? Your daughter is playing soccer with my kidney and I really have to use the restroom.” she asked him, her voice bordering on a whine. He gave her a sheepish grin and put the car seat down to grab a packaged one he put into their shopping cart. Ziva gave a relieved sigh and went to push the cart in the direction of the exit so they could finally pay for their purchase, but he stopped her and wrapped his arms around her middle.  
  
“I love you. Both of you.” he told her, kissing her cheek gently as he rested his hands on her pregnant belly. He felt their daughter give a strong kick and Ziva smirked against his lips before she kissed him.  
  
“We love you, too. And I would love you even more if you didn’t have to triple-check everything.” she teased him.  
  
“Just making sure everything’s safe.” he told her, stroking her cheek. “Hey, how about you go find the restrooms and get us a table at the Chinese restaurant outside while I pay for all this stuff and get it to the car.” Tony suggested. Ziva stared at him before she blinked rapidly and pull him down for a kiss.  
  
“I love you.” she told him, giving a small sniffle and he tried to keep in his chuckle. “In case I am faster than you are, want me to order something?” she asked him and he told her to get him a soup and wait with the main course. He watched her waddle along to the exit as he went for the next free cash register, his eyes bulging slightly when he saw the total cost of their purchases. And they were just getting started, they were still missing a crib and a changing table, never mind actually setting up the nursery with fresh paint and a hardwood floor. Oh boy.  
  
When he got back from putting their purchases in the trunk of their car, he found her waiting at the restaurant. As he started spooning up his soup, he felt her watch him and finally couldn’t stand it any more.  
  
“What?” he asked her, self-consciously checking if he had gotten himself dirty somehow.  
  
“I know I’m not easy to be around with most of the time. And I’m sorry.” Ziva apologized and Tony put down his spoon, reaching for her hands and squeezing them.  
  
“You’re pregnant, Ziva. Hormones going crazy. I understand.” he assured her, but she shook her head.  
  
“I shouldn’t have said that, about loving you more if you weren’t triple-checking things. You’re right, we have to make sure that everything is safe for the baby, and-”  
  
“Ziva.” he interrupted her gently, shaking his head. “I know what you meant. It’s okay, really, there is no point in checking things again and again when you already know that they’re safe. I’m not angry or anything, really.”  
  
Ziva slowly nodded, biting her lip.  
  
“Tell you a secret?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“You know how I whined about going baby shopping today because the game was on and I wanted to watch that?”  
  
She slowly nodded.  
  
“Well, I actually think this was more fun.” Tony admitted and watched as her face lit up in a big smile.


	46. Tony & Abby, arms

“Seriously?” Tony asks her, and she just shrugs.

“There is something about muscular arms that’s just…” Abby tells him, giving a soft sigh before she raises her hand as she takes a sip of her drink. “I don’t mean body building muscular, but… toned, I guess, would be the right word.” she adds, looking at the other two people at the table. Ziva is nodding slowly, contemplating her coaster with interest.

“Question.” she states and Abby looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “If he had worked out and gotten muscular arms… would you still be dating McGee?” the Israeli asks, ducking the coaster that comes flying at her and sending Tony into a laughing fit with the question.


	47. Tony & Abby, belong

Abby walked over to him and hugged him, hard. Tony sighed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close for a moment before the Forensic Scientist let go and took a step back to punch him in the arm.

“Hey!” he yelled indignantly, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”

“For thinking I would ever leave NCIS.” she glared at him, crossing her arms over her lab coat. “I belong here, Tony. With all of you.” she told him seriously. Tony gave her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry I doubted you?” he offered and Abby stepped into his arms again, holding him tight. “NCIS wouldn’t be the same without you, Abs.” he muttered into her pigtails.


	48. Tony & Abby, hope

He walks into the silent lab, taking a deep breath.

“Abby.” he softly says and the Goth stops typing at her computer to turn around and run to him, hugging him hard. He wraps his one arm around her waist, the other coming up to cradle her head gently as she hides her face in his neck, drawing shaky breaths. He allows himself the short moment of comfort and rests his head on hers briefly.

“Tell me he’s gonna be okay, Tony.” she whispers, her voice sounding so small and soft that it breaks his heart. He gently pulls her back slightly, looking into her green eyes. He plasters a smile on his face for her sake.

“Of course he will be okay. That lame explosion and short coma can’t hurt the mighty Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” he tells her, forcing himself to sound confidant to give her some hope. Abby looks at him, her green eyes wide and she gives a soft sniffle before she attack-hugs him again, her body shaking against his.

He’s never been able to fool her, really.


	49. Tony & Abby, harp

His eyebrows nearly met his hairline as Abby opened her apartment door. He let his eyes travel over her outfit, his mouth opening.

The Forensic Scientist was clad in a white cloth that fastened over her shoulder, similar to those on paintings of the Roman Senate. Instead of her dark pigtails, she was wearing the Marilyn Monroe wig he knew from a previous Halloween. Her make-up was almost non-existant. Over her head, a halo was kept in place by some wire.

Abby grinned at him and turned around, showing off two small wings fastened to her back. As she faced him again, she held up a tiny harp and tugged on a few of the strings, eliciting a soft melody from the instrument.

“An Angel? Really?” Tony shook his head, grinning at her choice of costume.

“Well, I gotta keep people guessing, don’t I?” Abby shrugged, eyeing him. “Unlike certain people who still go as Magnum every year.”

Tony stuck out his tongue as she stepped aside to let him into her apartment where the party had already started. He held out the bottle of tequila he had brought and Abby nodded.

“You are forgiven.” she told him and he reached up to flick her halo before disappearing into the crowd to escape her revenge.


	50. Tony & Abby, Sundays

Sundays are for waking up ridiculously late, snuggled up with each other. They are for cuddling and breakfast in bed.

Sundays are for him braiding her hair and forgoing shaving. They are for watching old horror movies and eating popcorn together, stealing kisses in-between suspenseful scenes.

Sundays are for paying the rent and getting gas for their cars. They are for talking McGoo into letting her Jethro for the day and taking the dog for a long walk.

Sundays are for museums and sight seeing and posing for tourist pictures. They are for showing each other obscure locations and trying out diners they happened upon by accident.

Sundays are for her working on a new article for another Science magazine while he watches her go over notes and case files and typing word after word.

Sundays are for him fixing things around her apartment, though he usually manages to screw them up even more and them having to call in a professional anyway. They’re for them to clean the mess at his and her to throw shirts at him with her laughter ringing through the bedroom.

Sundays are for catching their breath in-between cases and spending quality time together. Sundays are _theirs_.


	51. Tony & Tim, live

Tim slumped his shoulders, staring into the pits of the beer sitting on front of him. Tony was occupying the bar stool right next to him, nodding his head slightly to the music.

“I though she was the one.” he muttered miserably before reaching for his glass and taking a sip. Tony stopped his movements next to him and watched him, giving an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh McLove, aren’t they all?” he said, cocking his head to the side slightly as he toasted McGee with his glass. The younger agent shook his head sadly.

“No. No, she was different, Tony. She was funny and smart and she… I thought she liked me, you know?” he said, looking at the older man with a sad look on his face. Tony sobered slightly.

“Wow, you really meant that.” he realized. “You actually thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with Susan?” he asked, searching the younger man’s face. Now it was McGee’s turn to sigh. He turned his beer around on the coaster, contemplating the question.

“Maybe not the rest of my life, but… I thought we had a future, you know? I could see us… getting somewhere. Moving in together, vacations, holidays, that stuff.” he answered, rubbing a hand over his face. “What am I supposed to do now, Tony? She’s gone, and I won’t get her back, and… I think I forgot how it feels like, to be alone.”

Tony thumped him on the shoulder, hard.

“One, you’re not alone. You got me and Probette and Batgirl and the Silver Marine. And Duckman and Autopsy Gremlin.” he told Tim solemnly. “And two, you do what I do.”

Tim looked at his friend with a skeptical frown.

“You go out and talk to girls, women, sorry, you talk to women and try to charm them. And even if it doesn’t work, you’ll have spend a nice evening. So come on, McGloomy, time to live a little.”

As Tim watched, Tony took another sip of his beer before turning to the woman on his other side, starting to chat her up. He rolled his eyes slightly at the older man and downed the rest of his beer. As he was trying to place a new order, a blonde woman stepped next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked him. He shook his head in surprise.

“No. No, it’s not.” he answered and watched her smile at him before she sat down, placing her own order with the barkeep before she turned to face him again.

“So, you come here often?” she started and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that line. She was pretty, and while he didn’t want to take her home (the pain of his recent break-up was still to fresh for that), he thought that maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to follow Tony’s advice and to live a little.


	52. Tony & Tim, regret

If there was something he regretted, it was not listening to Ziva when they were in LA as Director Shepard’s security detail. He regretted the fallout of that. Jenny wouldn’t have had to die, at least not from a hail of bullets. Ziva wouldn’t have had to return to Mossad, and Tim… well, Tim wouldn’t have had to work with the Geek Squad.

It’s not that he thinks McGee didn’t enjoy it a bit, being the boss of someone. But Tony knows that it’s not what he wants to do. If he wanted to spend his days in front of a computer, McGee wouldn’t have worked so hard to become a Field Agent. And while his mysterious ways with a computer are a valuable asset for the team, it’s not everything Tim is. He’s a good agent, good at solving puzzles and riddles and cracking cases open, at connecting the dots. Sitting in a basement for months meant his talent as a Field Agent went to waste during that time. Not to mention what it did to Probie’s psyche.

Yeah, one thing he really regrets about getting Jenny Shepard killed is that Tim got punished alongside them. And that’s just not fair.


	53. Tony & Tim, drawn

Tim turned the paper around and tilted his head, staring at it in confusion as Tony buried his head in his hands and groaned loudly.

“Oh, come on!” he shouted, leaving Ziva to laugh and Abby to shush him, reminding him of the rules of the game.

“Timmy can only guess what you have drawn, Tony, so stop talking or I will reset your figurine.” she threatened, pointing at the blue stone on the board. Tony crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her before glaring at McGee. Who was still lost.

“I don’t know, a car?” he guessed. Tony picked up another stone and chugged it at him as Ziva declared their time over, giggling as she reached for her glass of wine on the table.

“What was it?” Abby asked, taking the card from DiNozzo.

“Speed limit.” Tony pressed out between his teeth, still glaring at his game partner.

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw, Tony!” McGee said, raising his hands slightly in defense.

“Next time, I want Ziva or Abby as my partner.” the senior agent said, making Tim mumble an apology and get a pat on the back from Ziva, who gave her partner a warning glare as Abby picked a new card for them.


	54. Tony & Tim, grow

McGee looked at the computer monitor, stroking his chin in contemplation as Tony and Ziva arrived at the bullpen, placing their backpacks down.

“Something’s itching, McSkincare?” Tony asked him as he sat down in his chair and booted up his computer. Tim looked at him briefly, wondering if he should say something.

“Tony, be nice.” Ziva cut in, turning to McGee. “Is there something on your mind, McGee?” she asked him before turning to her computer to enter her password.

“Actually, yeah.” McGee admitted, waiting until the two of them were looking at him again. “I’ve been thinking of growing a beard.” he told them.

Nothing. Total silence. Then Ziva’s lip twitched slightly upwards and Tony broke into loud laughter, hitting his desk with his palm in exaggeration. Ziva broke into a full smile, shaking her head slightly before sobering up.

“Sorry.” she apologized, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing as he realized how bad of an idea that statement had been. McGee turned to his computer again, fighting the urge to blush, but it was hard to hear his own thoughts over Tony’s persistent chuckling and gasping for breath.

He had a feeling there would be many joked coming his way and wasn’t disappointed when ten minutes later, an email from Tony appeared on his screen, with a picture of McGee attached. The senior agent had taken liberty and drawn the younger man a beard in Paint that rivaled that of Albus Dumbledore.


	55. Jimmy & Breena, losing

Jimmy frowned down at the table and reached up to scratch his neck. How exactly had this happened? He used to be so good at this, but now, now he wasn’t. He was failing, and failing hard at that. This wasn’t like it was supposed to be, it should be him losing, yes, but on his own terms. He should be _trying not to win_ , not trying to keep a little of his dignity intact.

He gave a soft groan as the next card was placed down and wanted to bang his head against the table. He drew another one when he realized that he had none to play.

“How’s it going?” Breena asked, coming over and peering over her daughter’s shoulder.

“Daddy’s losing.” the girl giggled, giving her mother a bright, triumphant smile as she turned to play another card, reducing the ones on her hand to two.

“Is that so?” his wife asked, trying hard to suppress her grin as she ruffled her daughter’s dark curls.

“No, I’m letting her win.” Jimmy ground out between his teeth and played one of his cards. Immediately his daughter’s face lit up and he knew it had been the wrong move. She played one card and then the next and jumped up, throwing her arms in the air.

“I win!” she declared, laughing delightedly.

“That you did. Now go wash your hands, dinner’s almost ready.” Breena nodded and watched the six year old run off. She sat down on the couch and watched her husband go through the pile of cards, as if looking for a way that the girl could have cheated without him noticing.

“How is that possible? She _destroyed_ me!” he almost whined and Breena gave a soft laugh.

“Yeah, well, cards never was your strong suit.” she teased him and leaned forward, covering his hands with hers. Jimmy looked up and sighed, extracting a hand to push his glasses back up on his nose. “I’m sure you can still beat her at rock, paper, scissors.” his wife joked and he shrugged sheepishly. Just then, their daughter returned, carrying her cat along.

“Oh, sweetie.” Breena sighed, getting up to rescue the cat from the death grip the child had on him and to explain to her how touching the pet after washing her hands meant she had to do it again. Mr Pounce shook himself and stalked over to Jimmy, jumping into the man’s lap with a sullen expression on his face. Jimmy reached down and scratched the feline behind his ears.

“Daddy touched him, too!” he heard his daughter argue and looked up in time to see Breena flash him an exasperated look and putting her hands on her hips.

“Sorry.” he apologized and put down the cards to take his daughter’s hand and go back to the bathroom so they could wash their hands.


	56. Jimmy & Breena, glow worms

“Daddy, daddy, look!” Lily yelled, pointed at the air and jumping on the spot. Jimmy pointed the flashlight at the ground and watched his daughter’s wide eyes sparkle in amazement. “Daddy, they _glow_.” the girl hushed in amazement.

“Yeah, they do.” Jimmy laughed, ruffling the girl’s hair gently.

“Can we catch them?” Lily asked him, looking up at her father pleadingly. Jimmy sighed and pushed up his glasses.

“Do you really want to?” he asked the eight year old. “I suppose we could put them in a glass, but…” he trailed off, watching his daughter grouch down and watch the dancing fireflies.

“But it wouldn’t be as pretty.” the girl muttered, hugging her father.

“Hey, what are you two doing out here?” Breena stepped onto the porch, wrapped in a blanket.

“We’re watching the…” Lily told her mother, frowning.

“Fireflies.” Jimmy supplied helpfully, smiling down at his daughter. Lily gave him a toothy smile before running from the porch and dancing in the middle of the fireflies. Breena laughed at her daughter’s antics and shook her head, cuddling close to her husband.

“It’s way past her bedtime.” she muttered as the girl’s laughter rang out into the dark.

“Ah, let her have some fun.” her husband shrugged, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “It’s our last night here.”

Breena sighed, relaxing against him. “Okay, fine.” she gave in. “But you are the one who gets to entertain her on the flight back tomorrow when she’s cranky.”

“Deal.” Jimmy grinned before capturing her lips in a soft kiss.


	57. Jimmy & Breena, tumblr

“You know, I saw this really cool thing on tumblr.” Jimmy suddenly piped up as they were going through a catalogue of wedding rings. Breena sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Jimmy, can we do this first?” she pleaded with her fiancé. She really wanted to finally settle on a design so they could have them made. It was only so many days until the wedding and she was starting to get anxious. They still hadn’t settled on a location or invitations and a small voice in her head was insisting that something would go wrong and they wouldn’t get married after all. But getting the rings meant they would, it didn’t matter if they didn’t get a great location or couldn’t settle on invitations and had to compromise or just send emails, but the rings would be something tangible, something _real_ and she really wanted to get them done as soon as possible for some reason.

“It’s about wedding rings.” Jimmy pouted, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “There’s a website where you can get rings that have the wave form of your significant other saying ‘I do’.” he told her before turning the page. “These look good.” he pointed at a pair and looked at Breena to see what she thought, only to find her staring at him with wide eyes. “Darling?”

Breena slowly blinked and bit her lip, looking down at the rings in the catalogue. They were lovely, really, but they had been at this for over an hour now and until now she hadn’t seen anything that felt like _them_. She took a deep breath, not believing what she was about to do.

“Can you show me those?” she asked him.

“Yeah, they’re right-”

“I meant the audio rings, Jimmy.” she interrupted him quickly. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he nodded.

“Um, sure.” he muttered, getting up to get his laptop. He opened the browser and pulled up the site, showing it to her. “We wouldn’t need to go with ‘I do’, either. See, you can record pretty much anything. Like, we could say ‘I love you’ or just ‘love’ or something else instead.”

Breena read over the description and looked at the pictures before nodding.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“Really?” Jimmy squeaked, still surprised. He hadn’t really thought that she’d like the idea and had no clue why he had even brought it up in the first place. But now that she seemed to like it…

“Yes. This… it sounds weird, but this feels like _us_.” his fiancée explained, opening his email and starting to type a message to the artist to see about the customization and prices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> info on the rings made by Sakurako Shimizu can be found ["here"](http://sakurakoshimizu.blogspot.de/)


	58. Jimmy & Breena, bedroom

Jimmy frowned down at the dozen of color samples.

“How about this one?” he suggested, holding up one. Breena looked at it briefly before frowning.

“Jimmy, this is supposed to be our bedroom, not a jungle.” she said, taking the dark green one and throwing it out. Jimmy sighed, going back to sorting out more colors. He found a blue one he liked, but thought better of suggesting it when he remembered that blue was far from his fiancées favorite color.

“Okay, what about this?” he suggested, finding a warm orange tone he actually liked. Breena opened her mouth before pausing briefly and then nodding.

“This looks okay.” she admitted, holding up an earthy tone. “This one?” she asked him and Jimmy shrugged.

“They’re both nice.” he allowed. “Maybe we should settle on a floor first? I mean, if we want darker hardwood or lighter or maybe colored carpet, we should make sure the color fits it.”

Breena gave a soft sigh and a nod before standing. “Then let’s go to home depot and look at things.”

“Now?” Jimmy wondered, surprised.

“Well, yes. We don’t have work today and we could take both cars in case you get called in.” his fiancée shrugged, going to collect her keys. “And who knows, if we get it done today, tomorrow we could pick out a new bed.” she winked at him, causing Jimmy to drop his keys before he eagerly picked them up and opened the door, ushering her out.


	59. Gibbs & Ziva, apple

He’d been waiting for almost two hours. After her behavior at work, he had known she would show up at his house eventually. So he wasn’t at all surprised when he heard the door to the basement open and her steps sounded on the stairs.

She didn’t talk and he let her watch him in silence as he concentrated on the wood.

Ziva picked up a sanding block and walked over to the boat, running it along the side twice and giving a sigh.

“Do you believe people can change?” she suddenly asked. Gibbs shrugged, not stopping in his work.

“Yeah, sometimes.” he told her. When she didn’t start working again but instead fidgeted with the sanding block, he stopped his motions and watched her. “Ziva?”

The Israeli looked up. When her eyes met his, the amount of hurt and confusion in them made him frown but she looked away quickly, shaking her head.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked her, walking around to her side and taking the block from her hands. She gave a soft sigh and drew a deep breath.

“When we found out that the son had committed the last murder to make it look like it hadn’t been his father killing the other women, you said ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’.” she told him, tears building in her eyes.

“Ziva-”

“I thought I was doing well.” she interrupted him, gesticulating wildly. “I thought I was doing a good job. I thought you saw me as an investigator now. That you accepted me, that you didn’t-” she stopped abruptly, drawing a deep, calming breath. “You said that the part that made me a killer died in the Somalian dessert.”

“Meant it, too.”

“Yet you continue to make assumptions about other people based on who or what their family is.” she argued, balling her fists. “I thought, I thought that I had left it behind. Left… Eli… behind.”

Gibbs put their blocks on the workbench, his back turned to her.

“You did.” he softly said.

“Then why do you-”

“I don’t think that saying applies to you, Ziver.” he told her sternly, turning around to look at her again. “You are doing a great job. So much that I forget who your father is, where you’re actually coming from.” Gibbs said. Ziva held her breath, her jaw clenching. “And I am… proud… of you.”

He watched as the woman in front of him deflated. Ziva bowed her head and drew a shuddering breath before she straightened again, giving a curt nod. She walked back to him and grabbed her sanding block and he didn’t miss how she reached up on her way back to the boat to brush a tear from the corner of her eye. He watched her sand a moment before he walked up behind her, covering her hand with his.

“With the grain.” he reminded her, his voice sounding husky. He felt her nod silently and started guiding her motions on the wood again. Once he was sure she got it he let go again and got his own sander to go back to the spot he had been working on.


	60. Gibbs & Ziva, memories (gen)

They both keep their pasts under lock and key from the other members of the team. Sometimes Ziva slips up and reveals small details about her life in Mossad, but mostly it is generic stuff that most of them already assumed, anyway.

It is only with each other that they share more personal memories. Even after the team knows about Shannon and Kelly, Gibbs rarely makes a reference to the existence of the two. Yet when Ziva finds herself in his basement once again, seeking refuge from nightmares and thoughts that make her head spin, Gibbs willingly shares anecdotes about the one marriage that could have lasted, or provides insight on being the father to a strong willed daughter. Every time he mentions Kelly, Ziva wonders why she feels like he was such an amazing father in so few years when her own, blessed with seeing one of his girls grow into a woman, failed so badly at being a father figure.

They exchange stories about their time in the military and working under cover. With Gibbs, she finds, voicing some things out loud doesn’t hurt as much as she expected it to. She can give the man whose head she received by overnight express a name and smile in memory of their friendship, and she can watch Gibbs’ eyes sparkle when he tells her of the first time Shannon tried to cook for him and they ended up going to the nearest diner in the end.


	61. Gibbs & Ziva, memories (Zibbs)

She can deal with him being injured. It has always been a possibility, especially with their jobs, and she has mentally prepared herself for it. Even him being in a coma is not that bad. Well, it is, but she can still breathe and function. Because his heart is still beating and she can pretend that he is just sleeping, like she has watched him do so many times.

It’s when Jenny tells them that Gibbs is suffering from amnesia and has lost over ten years of his life that she suddenly finds it hard to draw a breath, finds her heart constricting and the fear bubbling up inside of her. Fear, and an immense sense of loss. Yet she can’t let the others see, can’t let them know just how much this is affecting her. As far as they know, her and Gibbs are only colleagues, he’s her boss and she’s the Mossad agent turned investigator depending on his guidance. None of them know about the secret dinners and the nights spent in each other’s arms. They can’t imagine the connection they share, the secrets they don’t have to keep from each other and the experiences they have in common.

Ziva avoids going to the hospital, out of fear of having one of the others be around and him remembering her by chance. Jenny told her that the first memory that hit him when it came to the redhead was one of their nights together, and Ziva would like to keep their relationship from the rest of the team, at least for the time being. Until Jethro is master of himself and his senses again and can make a real decision on if he wants them to know or not, the duty of protecting their relationship falls on her.

So she finally works up the courage late at night, and when his hand shoots up to touch her wrist instinctively, she can feel her heart beat faster. It’s small and maybe she is making things up to have him not remembering her at all be less painful, but for a few sweet moments she allows herself to believe that they have a connection that even his memory loss cannot sever. And then she makes him hit her and jumpstarts his memory and makes him remember just what she did to save him, and she cries because he knows so much but is still missing even more and there seems no hope for them to get back to where they started.

In the months he is in Mexico, she stares at her phone at work and wishes she could shove the receiver down Tony’s throat more than once. She takes part in stupid campfires and goes through the motions every day without actually caring what happens. She thought they had something special, she felt at home and save with him but he couldn’t remember her as more than a slightly annoying addition to his team he hadn’t asked for.

But when she finds herself in trouble and with nowhere to turn, she asks Abby for his number and maybe it’s her broken voice and the sniffle of Ziva trying not to make her hear how close she is to crying, or maybe the Goth knows more than she admits, but in the end, Ziva has his number and calls him and when she finally hears his voice after so long, she breaks down. Because she can’t tell him that she just wants him to come back and hold her and kiss her and tell her everything will be alright and that he will make it right again, that she doesn’t have to be afraid because he won’t ever leave her again. She can’t say that because even after months, he still doesn’t remember, so she settles on asking him to just save her, and if it weren’t for her being afraid for her life she would definitely rejoice at the knowledge that he must feel enough to fly a thousand miles over night to come to her help, and maybe, not all is lost.

It’s after her name is cleared that she seeks the refuge of his house again, forgetting that it will be the place where he’ll stay as long as he is in the states.

She finds him in the basement, sipping a beer and staring at the skeleton of his boat, and she already has her mouth open to apologize for intruding when she sees the second bottle of beer sitting on the workbench next to him, already open. A quick inspection of the label tells her it’s her favorite brand, though she is sure she was not stupid enough to leave it in his fridge.

“You know,” Gibbs starts, peeling at the label on his bottle, a slight frown on his face, “I was grocery shopping earlier and kept putting stuff in the cart…” he shakes his head. “In Mexico, I woke up sometimes, from dreams, with someone’s name on my lips. Only whenever I opened my eyes, I couldn’t remember it for the life of me. I just knew it wasn’t Shannon.”

Ziva takes a slow sip of his beer, steeling herself for his question if she knew if he’d been in a relationship before his memory loss. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time, she knows that she can and if she does, it will be a lot easier.

“Last night, when I slept here, the sheets smelled of someone’s perfume and body lotion. And after months, the woman that was haunting me in my dreams, I could finally hear her voice, and then she suddenly had a face, and when I woke up, I remembered. I remembered her name, I remembered the first time I met her at NCIS, I remembered the night she killed her own brother to save my life,” he goes on and Ziva closes her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat, “I remembered our first date, the first kiss, first time I woke up to find her watching me in the dark…” Gibbs trails off, setting down his beer. “Why didn’t you say something, Ziva?” he asks her, his voice strangely soft. Ziva sighs, shaking her head.

“Why should I have?” she asks, shrugging. “You didn’t remember, and I… I didn’t want to force you to stay when you were clearly set on leaving.”

“Because I didn’t know I had something to keep me here.”

“If I had told you, nothing would have changed. Innocent people still would have been killed, you still would have felt betrayed… there was no point in trying to make you remember something when it seemed like it hadn’t been that important to you in the first place!” she explods, putting down her bottle forcefully. She can feel him staring at her, his blue eyes searching her face, but after the months of hiding her hurt and sadness she finds she doesn’t have to energy to put up the walls once again. Instead, she feels him tearing down her carefully constructed façade with a mere glance.

“I’m sorry, Ziva.” Gibbs mutters roughly, reaching out to stroke her cheek and wipe away a tear that had fallen. She turns her face into the touch, craving the contact.

“’Sokay.” she whispers, reaching up to grab his wrist and hold his hand in place as she closes her eyes again. She feels him step closer and then his arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her against him, the touch gentle and almost hesitating. “I missed you.” she admits, breathing the words into his shirt as she clutches it, drawing a shuddering breath and feeling his hold on her tighten before his lips brush against her temple.

“Missed you, too.” Gibbs murmurs. Deep down, she knows that he will leave again soon, that this changes little of what has happened. But she’s willing to push those thoughts away and pretend that everything is alright for a night.


	62. Gibbs & Ziva, dress

He can remain focused when there are bullets whizzing past his head. He keeps his cool when he is ambushed and a suspect draws a knife. But the sight of her in that damn LBD makes even Gibbs’ attention stray briefly.

It’s his own fault, he figures. After all, he did tell her to dress up. Only he did not think that she even owned such a short thing, never mind would have the nerve to wear it when out with the team, during work, no less. He should have known better, this is Ziva they are talking about, after all.

Even in Interrogation, he has a hard time hiding just how much her close proximity is affecting him. He’s perfected the art of ignoring his feelings for her over years when it comes to interacting at work, but she never tempted him like this. Even when she wore those damn skirts when she first started working at NCIS and he noticed her legs for the first time it was not that hard. Granted, he had still been hung up about Jenny back then, but still.

“So, what are we going to do now?” she asks when they finally leave Interrogation.

“You are going to get changed.” he tells her bluntly. Ziva raises an eyebrow and takes a step back from him, a soft smirk playing on her lips.

“Getting distracted?” she asks him, her voice dropping an octave, reminding him of the raspy edge it had during her first case at NCIS, when her and Tim got pushed into a fountain and she got a brief bout of the sniffles from it.

“No.” he shakes his head. “But DiNozzo might.” he adds and lets his eyes travel down her body pointedly, taking in how the dress clings to her curves, the smoothness of her legs, the high heels… He looks up in time to see her pout.

“Spoilsport.” she mutters before sighing and walking into the direction of the locker rooms of the gym, her hips swinging invitingly and he curses under his breath. Damn, he should really stop underestimating her mischievous streak.


	63. Ducky & Ziva, afternoon

He had just sat down with a book and a nice cup of tea when the doorbell rang. With a sigh, Ducky stood and went to answer. He was rather surprised to find Ziva standing on the other side, a cheery smile on her face.

“Ziva.”

“Hello Ducky.” she greeted him as she walked past him into his apartment.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? I was not aware that I had given you my new address.” the ME wondered, but the younger woman shook her head and took his hat from the wardrobe, holding it out to him.

“Gibbs was so kind.” Ziva told him. Confused, Ducky took his hat. “Put on a coat, we are going for a walk.”

Ducky shook his head, sighing. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreachiate the attempts the team was making to cheer him up. Abby and Ziva were particularly persistent in their constant smiles and even Abby seemed overly affectionate with her numerous hugs. He just didn’t feel like being in someone’s company and ruining their mood.

“Ziva, dear, please. I know what you are doing, and let me assure you that I am-“

“If the next word out of your mouth is ‘fine’, Ducky, I will call McGee and we will pick up Jethro for our stroll.” Ziva narrowed her eyes at him before her features softened and she patted his arm. “It is a nice afternoon and I found a new tea shop a few blocks from here. I’d hate to go alone, and there’s no one else I know that would enjoy going with me.” she changed tactics. “Please, Ducky?”

The old ME sighed and nodded, suppressing a smile as Ziva held up his coat for him. He had seen the sign of the new shop a few days ago but never been in the mood to stop by. Maybe this would actually turn out to be fun.


	64. Ducky & Ziva, scars

“Ziva, would you mind staying for a word?” Ducky asked when Gibbs turned to leave autopsy. The Israeli looked at her boss who shrugged and went on his way back upstairs. She sighed and turned back to the ME.

“What is it?” she asked, wondering why he had held her back.

“Are you in pain?” the kind doctor outright asked her, knowing from experience that beating around the bush never worked with her and usually only frustrated the woman.

Ziva blinked in surprise, slowly crossing her arms.

“Where do you get that from?”

“You are bracing your weight on your left leg and leaned against the autopsy table when I was giving my report.” the ME told her. “And yesterday after our cup of tea you winced when you stood.”

Ziva gave a soft sigh. She had hoped she had been concealing her discomfort pretty well, but apparently it hadn’t been the case.

“A little. It’s more of a… discomfort.” she admitted, hesitating. “In Somalia… I have a scar on my knee. When the weather gets cold and humid, it starts bothering me.”

“I see.” Ducky nodded, pointing at his mobile chair. Ziva rolled her eyes but sat down nonetheless and pulled up her pant leg.

“There is another one near my shoulder blade that acts up sometimes.” she softly said when the doctor prodded her knee.

“Has someone tried to treat them, massage them?” Ducky asked her. The confused frown on Ziva’s face was answer enough. “Scars, especially deep ones, can disturb the flow of energy in the human body, if you will.”

“Do not tell me you believe in that, Ducky.” Ziva rolled her eyes.

“Oh, it has nothing to do with believing, my dear. There is scientific evidence of it causing problems for people.”

Ziva furrowed her brows and pulled up the back of her shirt when Ducky walked around her so he could have a look at her back.

“So you think that this… procedure, that it might help?” she asked when she felt him run his hands over the raised surface.

“Well, it is certainly worth a try.” the ME shrugged, pulling her shirt down and walking over to his desk. “I will give you the address of a physical therapist who can help you. A very nice woman, yes. In the meantime, I will prescribe you a lotion. It should moistures the skin and help smooth the movements in the areas.”

Ziva took the two notes, nodding as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the ME’s cheek.

“Thank you, Ducky.” she smiled at him before leaving to return to her desk and paperwork.


	65. Ducky & Ziva, park

In the first weeks after she came back from the dead, Ziva stayed at Ducky’s place. While she was proud, too proud to stay in the hospital for longer than the doctors insisted, she also realized that she needed help and that it would be good to have someone with medical knowledge close by, to help change the dressings and bandages on her cuts and treat her bruises, saving her from having to go to the hospital every other day. That, and she had no money and no apartment, her status and as agent was still being questioned so she could not apply for Navy housing.

Ducky let her clean and walk around, cautioning her not to overtax herself. Yet whenever he did and Ziva opened her mouth with a sharp reprimand on her tongue, she looked into his kind eyes and her anger disappeared.

It was then that they started going to the park together. When Ducky finished at NCIS, he picked her up at home, the nurse for his mother agreeing to stay a little longer while the Medical Examiner and Ziva drove to a nearby park and went on walks together. Ziva knew he was going with her mostly so she wouldn’t think of starting to jog around the park (and really, even though she longed to go faster than what felt like the speed of a snail, she knew that her body wasn’t ready for serious exercise yet), but she enjoyed his silent company. Ducky didn’t push her into talking, he was content with just babbling along and sharing one of his stories, more than often picking one that he knew Ziva had already heard so she could let her mind wander without feeling bad about it. Sometimes they took his mother’s dogs with them and Ziva watched the dogs run around and play, her mind somewhere else while Ducky’s soft voice filled her ear. As she continued to recover and did not require as many pauses, the kind man, who had let her lean on him in the beginning of their walks when she barely made it back to his car, took her arm and allowed himself to lean on her.

They discovered a nice little café where they went after their walks and had a cup of tea before Ducky drove them back to his house (while able to drive a stick, Ziva found the combination of US streets and a British car rather confusing and after more than one nearly-crash surrendered to being driven around by her old friend).

It was in the first week after Ziva moved out of her apartment at the Navy Yard that she went back to the park. Her doctor had told her she could start with short runs again and after promising to take it easy, Ziva had driven to the park and gone a few rounds before she had felt her legs starting to cramp and collapsed onto a nearby bench, frustrated with herself. She had closed her eyes to keep herself from crying in frustration and anger and was trying to get her breathing back under control and to keep the contents of her stomach down when someone stepped into her sun, throwing a shadow over her. When she looked up in annoyance, she found herself face to face with a concerned Ducky. He had helped her up and let her lean on him again as he steered her to the small café. He never asked or made a comment, but when she drove to the park two days later, she found him sitting on one of the benches on her second round, holding a bottle of water. When she came to pass him again, he stepped into her path and made her stop and take a drink while he took her pulse and declared that she was done with running for the time being and walked around the park with her, never drawing attention to her lack of stamina or making her feel weak. In the subsequent weeks, Ziva would often find him sitting on a bench, watching her exercise and making her stop when she was pushing herself too hard too soon, filling her ear with distractions or remaining quiet when she asked him to as they walked around the park whenever he called a stop to her training sessions. Later, when she was able to tell the signals of her body again and willing to listen to them, Ducky came equipped with a newspaper or a book and sat reading, waiting for her to be finished so they could go to the café for a cup of tea and some small talk.


	66. Ducky & Ziva, hurt

Ziva slowly stepped next to her friend, clasping her hands in front of her.

“I should have known that Abigail would tell you.” Ducky sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, the headstone on his mother’s grave becoming a blurry silhouette.

“It is not her fault. I can be rather… persuasive.” the young woman inclined her head slightly. “But I thought that you might want some company. And nothing against Abby, but we know that she can be a little… overwhelming.” she added. Again, the ME sighed.

“That she can. Not unlike Mother.” he said, putting his glasses back on and bending down to pull out a wilted flower from the bouquet he had brought with him the last time he had been here, only two days ago. Back then he had been alone and keenly felt the loss of his mother, the one person he had known all his life. But now, with Ziva standing silently next to him, it did not feel as bad as it had. Or maybe he was just getting used to the emptiness and pain her death had left him with.

“I would like to believe that for her, dying was for the best. Her lucid moments were few as the end drew near, but when she did realize what was happening to her, she had this frightened look in her eyes…” he trailed off, shaking his head sadly.

“That does not mean that her loss does not hurt.” Ziva softly said. He turned his head and found her staring straight at the headstone.

“No. No, it does hurt. Very much so.” Ducky admitted with another sigh. Ziva swallowed thickly and wet her lips, staring down at her hands.

“I never went to my mother’s funeral.” Ziva breathed. “I had said things to her, the day she died. So many hateful things, fuelled by so much anger… I felt like I would be dishonoring her by attending her funeral. The first time I went to the grave was a year later, when the headstone was put into place.”

“Oh my dear…” Ducky muttered, reaching out to squeeze her arm. Ziva gave him a sad smile.

“What I am trying to say is, I know what it feels like, to lose a parent. And I know how hard it was, to do it alone. But you don’t have to do that, Ducky.” she told him, covering his hand with hers and returning the pressure. “We’re there for you, for whatever you need.”

Ducky swallowed thickly before nodding, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you, Ziva.” he muttered and she bent down to press a soft kiss to his cheek.


	67. Tim & Abby, turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cheated and used "turn down" instead

Abby stared at him, the grin on her face faltering.

“What do you mean, no?” she asked, frowning slightly.

Tim took a deep breath.

“What does no generally mean?” he returned, waiting, watching as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“It is because of this publisher lady? I will talk to her, she can extend your deadline-“

“I don’t have another deadline coming up.” Tim interrupted her, shaking her head. “I just don’t wanna do it.”

Abby stared at him, her eyes getting watery.

“Why not?” she asked, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

“Because I don’t have the urge to embarrass myself in front of Tony and Gibbs and the Director.” Tim answered, turning around to leave the Lab. Abby ran after him, blocking the door with her body. “Abby…” he warned her.

“Come on, you’ll be a cute elf.” she tried convincing him, but he shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry, I won’t do it. If it’s so important, than why don’t you dress up as Santa’s elf?” he suggested, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her from the door so he could leave the lab and return to the squad room, bracing himself for the lecture he feared would be coming his way. You didn’t simply turn her down when Abby Scuito asked you for a favor. If she had asked him to hand out presents. he would’ve done so. But he wasn’t going to dress up for it.


	68. Tim & Abby, face

Tim frowned at the plasma screen and what was looking at him from it.

“Um, Abby?” he tried, waiting for the Goth to look up from the microscope. “Why is my face on the face morph simulator thing?” he asked her. Abby suddenly beamed at him.

“I’ve been toying around with it. It’s some pretty neat programming, Tim.” she told him, walking over to the computer and hitting a few keys. Her own picture flew up into the free slot and the loading bar appeared briefly, until the face of a kid showed in the middle. A girl with pretty green eyes and black hair smiled down at them.

“We’d make some cute kids.” Abby announced, tilting her head slightly.

“Unless your future kid killed my Petty Officer, I want McGee back upstairs and you back on your things.” Gibbs said from right behind them. Abby gave a sad sigh as her boss and McGee left the Lab before closing the program and skipping to Major Mass Spec. A girl could dream.


	69. Tim & Abby, again

He was cursing himself inwardly. How could be so stupid? Really. How could he let himself do this again? Fall for her, do what she wanted, be her loyal puppy and friend. Jump as soon as she started whistling for him. Fulfil her every wish.

But as Abby’s hands started unbuttoning his shirt and he tasted her lips, he found that he didn’t care at all how this was probably going to end again.


	70. Jenny & Ziva, sand

When she first met Ziva, the Israeli had said something that Jenny had never really understood.

“I think we all have the same amount of sand in our hourglass. It just runs quicker for some than for others.”

To Ziva, it must have made sense, though. Jenny had never seen her be bothered that she would most likely not live to see 40. Instead, Ziva lived her life to the fullest whenever she could. She had a tight grip on her emotions and was professional when she had to be. But when given free reign, the Israeli woman possessed a wild, almost self-destructive side that told of her age back then.

Faced with the diagnosis, the NCIS director suddenly found herself thinking of a hot evening in Cairo all those years ago, and what Ziva had said then. And she suddenly found that maybe, Ziva had been right. Because Jenny could have sworn that she suddenly felt time run through her fingers just like sand.

Watching her friend in the bullpen as she presented the results of her search to the rest of team Gibbs, Jenny mused how weirdly they mirrored each other.

When they started out together, Jenny’s hourglass had been slowly dripping its sand while the sand had practically poured from Ziva’s. And now it was Jenny’s sand that ran while the speed of Ziva’s had slowed down and now matched that of the others around her.


	71. Jenny & Ziva, underwear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i had half of this already written from a oneshot for a random generator prompt i gave up on

“So, what you are saying is that you want company that can kick ass.”

Ziva’s accented voice floated from the living room where she was taking off her coat. Jenny walked in with a bottle of wine, raising a delicate eyebrow at the outfit the Israeli was sporting. Not that Ziva could not pull of naughty, on the contrary, but Jenny had rarely seen the Mossad Officer in as short a skirt. Not to mention that halter-neck tops and knee-high boots really were not part of Ziva’s usual wardobe.

“I want nice company, NCIS wants my company to be able to kick butt. That is, if I dismiss my security detail. And what the hell happened to your outfit?” the NCIS director asked, watching at Ziva attempted to pull her loose curls into a ponytail. The Israeli stopped mid-movement, her curls held up by her hands and looked down, a frown forming on her face. She gave a small huff and then let go off her curls, allowing them to fall and cover her shoulders.

“Abby and DiNozzo’s idea of dress up, I suppose.” she shrugged, walking over to the cabinet and getting two glasses and a corkscrew. When she turned back around, she found Jen had not moved an inch, but was staring at her open-mouthed.

“What?!” Ziva asked, exasperated.

“You. Let DiNozzo. Pick your outfit? Voluntarily?” Jen asked, handing her the bottle of wine and watching as Ziva rolled her eyes.

“DiNozzo and Abby. And I never said I did it voluntarily.” she responded, pouring a generous amount of wine into one glass and handing it to Jen before pouring herself some and toasting her. “This is really good.” she nodded, attempting to sit down on the couch but finding it rather difficult to do so without flashing a good piece of skin. Not that Jenny hadn’t seen her in a state of even more undress, but she preferred to keep a few things to herself. “Oh for Heaven’s Sake!” she cried in frustration, causing Jenny to laugh.

“If you would prefer, I think I have some sweatpants that could be your size.” the red-head offered, and Ziva almost groaned in relief.

“I could kiss you.” she muttered when she followed Jen upstairs into the woman’s bedroom. Jen threw her a look over her shoulder, half-amusement, half-shock.

“I have no idea how much to drink you already had, but I am guessing it was some.” she said and Ziva made a gesture with her hand.

“I was merely expressing my gratitude.” she said, walking over to the vanity and taking one of the many small bottles. She took a sniff of the smell, scrunching up her face before placing it down and picking up another one. “How come you called me and not Gibbs? Not that I am complaining, I did not wish to go dancing dressed like this. But one has to wonder…”

A soft weight hit her at the back of her head and she gasped, whirling around and glaring at Jenny, who held up a shirt.

“I have no desire to spend the evening with an insufferable jerk, thank you very much.” she huffed as Ziva bent down to retrieve the gray sweatpants, holding them to herself to see if they would fit.

“You don’t have a spare pair of underwear for me, I suppose?” the Israeli asked, drawing a gasp from Jenny.

“You are not wearing underwear?” the red-head stage-whispered, causing Ziva to roll her eyes.

“Would I ask if I were?” she hissed back, walking to Jen and taking the shirt from her hands before walking into the en-suite bathroom. Which did answer Jen’s question just as well. After what had happened in Cairo, Ziva did not have inhibitions of changing her pants or shirt around Jen. Unless she was not wearing anything underneath. The NCIS director shook her head, a small grin tugging on her lips. If DiNozzo had known about that little fact? Speaking of which.

“How did you end up wearing what DiNozzo and Abby picked out, anyway?” she asked Ziva, who hadn’t completely closed the bathroom door.

“Long story.”

“We have all night.” Jenny insisted, sitting down on her bed and running a hand through her hair. There was a moment of silence, as if Ziva was considering what would happen if she didn’t answer the question. Apparently, she did the math of Jenny, her and possibly a lot of wine and ended at the right conclusion: before the night was over, Jenny would know exactly why she had let Tony pick her outfit.

“It was a bet. And a rather stupid one, I came to find. We said whoever would first find out where our suspect was would get to pick out the outfit of the other for the next team night out. I insisted on Abby as safety measure for whatever he would pull on me. I would have placed him in shorts and a Hawaii shirt and a hat. I may have underestimated how much of a sexist pig he is.” Ziva huffed, coming from the bathroom, now dressed in an oversized band shirt and yoga pants. “He raided my wardrobe. If it hadn’t been for Abby, he would have put me in a dress with even less of a skirt. I had no idea I still owned this stuff, it must have been in one of the boxes my father sent and I didn’t bother to sort out before putting the contents into my wardrobe. I should’ve known that Abby’s idea of sexy is DiNozzo’s only with more make-up.” she rolled her eyes. “That is not funny.” she added when she found Jenny fighting back her laughter. “I had to threaten to gag her when she realized I wasn’t wearing panties. If Tony had seen, the whole Navy Yard would know by now.”

Jenny bit her tongue to prevent herself from laughing at the look of frustration on the Israeli’s face.

“Then why were you? Not wearing panties, I mean.” she clarified.

“Have you seen how tight the skirt is? If I had, I might as well given DiNozzo a tour of my underwear drawer.” Ziva hissed, balling her fists before drawing a deep breath. “But you rescued me from the rather embarrassing even this evening would have turned into. Plus, the look on McGee’s face when he saw my outfit, or rather, the lack thereof, was so worth it.” she giggled, flopping down next to Jenny and watching the ceiling. The redhead laid down herself, drawing deep breaths. This was nice. It had been some time since she had allowed herself to relax, her security detail didn’t help much for that. But with Ziva around… the Israeli somehow managed to bring out Jenny’s wild, carefree side. She had a certain attitude that made her great company in case one needed cheering up, though most people wouldn’t guess by the way Ziva was at work.

“So, tell me, anyone in your life?” she asked and turned on her side, propping her head up on one hand. Ziva snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Of course, didn’t you hear?” the Israeli responded, turning her had. “There’s a certain redhead I am rumored to have a thing for.”

“Really?” Jenny raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t been aware of the gossip at NCIS suggesting that there was something going on between the two of them. Then again it wasn’t as if anyone would have told her anyway.

“Yes.” Ziva nodded. “People are just undecided whether it is one-sided or not, and if it’s a thing of the past or still going on.” she informed her, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Huh. Well, from what I have heard,” Jenny started, reaching out with her free hand and trailing it down Ziva’s arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake, “it never stopped.” she smirked at Ziva, relieved when she found her grin at her before the Israeli turned and pressed a soft kiss to Jen’s lips.

“Yeah, I think that’s what the majority think.” she husked, laughing when Jenny pulled her with her until the redhead resumed the kiss and shut her up effectively.


	72. Kate & Ziva, realizations

NCIS Special Agent Caitlin Todd was straight. As straight as they came, actually. She had only been attracted to boys and later, men all her life. Her first kiss had been Andrew Miller, she had been eleven and it had been gross. The first time she had sex she had been seventeen. Tommy Evans wasn’t the best lover there had ever been, but then again, Kate doubted she’d have been able to appreciate that back then, anyway.

She may have been a little sexually attracted to that bastard Ari, but that kinda went out the window when he blew out Gerald’s shoulder. And then he kidnapped her. But it was only when he attempted to shoot her on a damn rooftop that the latent attraction changed into a deeply rooted hate. Hate so strong she left the squad room every time she caught Haswari’s sister looking at her the first month they worked together.

She hadn’t wanted Ziva on the team and Kate didn’t understand why Gibbs didn’t fight the new director about it. Except for the rumor that was going around that Gibbs and the redhead had been lovers once and now he was trying to get on her good side again by letting her put… that woman on their team. Because Kate was not dumb and neither was she blind. She caught the look that Ziva threw in Gibbs’ direction when he gave Shepard a once-over. And neither did she miss the Israeli checking out the other woman’s ass when the director walked back up the stairs to her office. And the lingering glances at Abby’s short skirts.

Abby, though, seemed thoroughly unfazed by the Israeli’s actions. She had taken a certain liking to the Israeli woman, one that Kate found incredibly annoying. Abby was her friend, she was supposed to be on her side. They were supposed to plot Ziva’s removal from the team together. Instead Abby hugged the other woman and gave her helpful advice to getting settled in DC and every time Kate saw the two together and noticed how close they were starting to get, she wanted to tear out her hair.

Imagine her surprise when one day, Kate found her eyes flickering to Ziva’s lips when the other woman presented her findings to the team and decidedly impure thoughts came across Kate’s mind. She quickly shook her head and took the clicker from the Israeli, their hands grazing and sending Kate’s mind into overdrive for a brief second before she caught herself.

She tried forcing any thought she had about Ziva out of her head. She didn’t go out with her and Abby any longer, claiming exhaustion, overdue paperwork or a phone call with her parents as excuses, until they stopped inviting her. Or rather, Ziva dropped out of the equation and it was her and Abby again on the girls’ nights at either of their apartments.

When she caught Ziva staring at her butt at a crime scene, Kate exploded in her face, yelling at her for two minutes before Gibbs got between them. To Kate’s surprise, she was the one being sent back to the Navy Yard, not Ziva. As if the other woman’s behavior hadn’t been inappropriate.

Ziva never openly stated her sexuality, nor did she openly go out with other women. Even though she was a Mossad officer and DADT did not necessarily apply to her, she was careful to use gender neutral pronouns when talking about the people she had slept with. Yet it was hard to miss the lipstick stain on the collar of her blouse once, or the smell of someone else’s perfume on her (and no, of course Kate did not know what Ziva normally smelled like).

One day, though, another woman with an accent much like Ziva’s came looking for her at NCIS, and when the two embraced, there was something in Ziva’s dark eyes and her hand was resting decidedly low on the other woman’s back that it made… something flare up in Kate’s stomach. Ziva asked for an early, extended lunch, to be able to catch up with her friend, and Gibbs gave her the rest of the day off. When the Israeli came into work late the next day, looking very happy and much like she had barely slept a wink the last night, Kate couldn’t help herself. Every biting comment she came up with left her lips before she could even consider censoring herself. When she slipped up in front of a suspect, Gibbs almost manhandled her out of the room and forced her to take the rest of the day off, glaring at her silently until she had to give in. Unless she wanted a formal complaint in her file and a nice talk with Director Shepard, none of which seemed appealing to her in any way.

She spent the rest of her workday at the gym after dropping off her things at home, kicking and hitting a punching bag to rid herself of the excess energy her rage provided her with. Once she had exhausted herself she jogged the way home instead of taking the bus to avoid having to sit still. Later, under the shower, her mind was free to wander, however, and the flashes she received of water droplets running down smooth, honey colored skin made her pulse quicken and she quickly turned on the cold water to shock herself out of that daydream.

She wasn’t attracted to Ziva David. No. Never. It was just that she hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was all. She didn’t want to have sex with Ziva, and she certainly wasn’t jealous of the woman the Israeli had no doubt banged last night. Who she dragged into her bedroom –or wherever else she had sex- was Ziva’s business. Kate was just angry that the Israeli had to be so smug about it and flaunt around her conquest like that. Really, she couldn’t care less about what had happened between Ziva and the stranger. Or Ziva and Director Shepard.

She was still trying to convince herself of that when she had gotten dressed and dried her hair and heard her doorbell ring. Kate frowned at the door and decided to ignore it. She went to the kitchen to get herself something to drink when the bell rang again, accompanied by an incessant knocking.

“Kate, open up. It’s me, Ziva.”

Kate clenched her fist around her water bottle and banged the refrigerator shut, even more resolved to ignore her visitor now.

“Kate, this is ridiculous. I know you are home, your car is parked downstairs!” the Israeli shouted, banging her fist against the wood. Kate flopped down on her couch and started browsing a magazine, feeling incredibly satisfied as she imagined a furious Ziva standing in front of her door, fuming because she was not let in. She had neglected to consider the other woman’s lock-picking skills, however. When she heard the first click, Kate looked up, frowning lightly, but before she had processed the information she heard the door open and close and Ziva walked in, putting away her lock picking utensils.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kate asked, jumping from her couch.

“You were not opening your door.” Ziva shrugged.

“Get out.” she demanded, throwing down her magazine. The Israeli tilted her head to the side, crossing her arms.

“I wish to talk to you.” she stated and Kate snorted.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you. Now get out of my apartment or I’m calling the police.” she said, grabbing her phone.

“She is my cousin.” Ziva said and despite herself, Kate halted, her finger resting on the number 9.

“What?”

“The woman who came to see me at NCIS yesterday. Her name is Eliza and she is my cousin, the daughter of my father’s late sister. She is here to relieve one of the Officers at the Israeli embassy so he can return to Israel for his child’s wedding. Eliza and I went out to dinner and then talked through the night. Only talked.”

Kate clenched her jaw and crossed her arms.

“Why should I care what you do in your free time?”

“You seemed to take a great interest in it when I first started at NCIS.” Ziva threw back. “And I did not exactly overhear your comments today.” she added, her voice softer and a look in her eyes that Kate had rarely seen before.

“Again, what should I care? It’s your life, you can fuck whoever you want.”

Ziva narrowed her eyes slightly at her, a frown appearing on her face. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Kate found herself swallowing heavily at the sight of it.

“I will not make excuses about who I share a bed with.” the Israeli stated. “I have slept with women and men alike. If that is a problem for you, I would rather you say it and not make thinly veiled homophobic comments aimed at me.”

“If I said I have a problem with it, will you go back to Israel?” Kate asked and Ziva clenched her fists before relaxing again.

“No.” she shook her head slowly. Kate suddenly realized how stupid that move had been, though she did not try to take her comment back. The air between them cackled with tension before Ziva gave a curt nod. “Very well.” she slowly said, running a hand through her dark curls. “I hope you have a nice day.” the Israeli muttered before she turned and left Kate’s apartment, leaving the other woman to stare at the door, stunned by the exchange.

The next day, Gibbs said that Ziva had taken three days leave because something had come up. Kate swallowed but did not react to it otherwise. None of the team seemed to know about her exchange with the Israeli and she preferred it to stay that way. They didn’t need to know how nasty she had been to Ziva in addition to the comments she had made at work. She’d pull her aside and apologize once Ziva returned to work and things between them had a chance to cool off. Make some excuse. Something.

Only that after the three days were up, Gibbs came into work fuming and almost ran up the stairs to see Director Shepard. Shortly after he went in, the Director’s assistant retreated to the catwalk, her eyes wide, and they had a pretty good idea of what was going on up there. Well, at least, the team suspected that Gibbs and Shepard were yelling at each other again, only that none of them had any idea why. And Ziva was late for work. Kate just hoped she managed to get here before Gibbs came back down and realized that the Israeli was missing.

Once he came back down, Gibbs declared that they had a body and stormed off down to the parking garage, not making a comment about Ziva’s continued absence. When McGee brought it up at the crime scene, the boss growled that “she’s working at counter-terror now” before stalking off to rip apart the local LEO who had walked all over their crime scene. Thankfully, the task of taking pictures occupied Kate’s mind enough to give her an excuse not to examine why that statement had hurt so much and knocked the wind out of her.

They solved the case and opened a new one until she saw Ziva again, hurrying up the stairs to MTAC, a cup of tea in one hand and a folder in the other, a headset around her neck. Kate felt her eyes drawn up every few minutes, staring at the silver doors and unable to focus on her paperwork. It wasn’t until late in the evening that Ziva re-emerged, talking to another agent in a language that was definitely not English. Kate was packing up her things, the last member of team Gibbs still present in the bullpen as the others had already gone home but Gibbs had told her he wanted that report first thing in the morning. It felt like he was punishing her for Ziva switching teams. Not that she probably hadn’t played a part in it, but Kate didn’t see why she had to be the one to bear the brunt of his wrath when it had been Ziva requesting the transfer and Shepard allowing it. Kate had never said she wanted Ziva off the team, not directly at least.

“Working late?”

Kate snorted and set her backpack down on her desk, turning off her monitor.

“As if you didn’t know why.” she hissed, turning off her light and making to move past her, but Ziva blocked her path, raising an eyebrow.

“I do in fact not know why. I was merely trying to get an opening, since McGee’s birthday is coming up and I wanted to ask you for his address so I could send a present. Or you could put it on his desk.” she shrugged and Kate narrowed her eyes at the other woman.

“Why, is it going to be ticking?” she bit, unable to catch herself in time. Hurt flashed in Ziva’s dark eyes and her face distorted with anger briefly before becoming a carefully blank mask. She took a step towards her, getting in Kate’s face before leaning over to whisper in her ear.

“That would be if it were your present.” she muttered, leaning back and giving Kate’s face a light slap –much like the agent had seen her do with Tony and McGee- before Ziva turned and walked over to the elevators. Kate took a deep breath before following her, getting into the same cart instead of waiting for the next one. She would never admit that Ziva David had intimidated her, not even to herself. Just like she wouldn’t admit that part of her had found what had happened incredibly sexy. Her body tingled where Ziva’s had brushed against her and a shiver had run down her spine when she had felt Ziva’s warm breath in her ear. She smelled of tea and jasmine and Kate could have just turned her head and-

The elevator stopping abruptly jostled her from her thoughts and she turned her head sharply and opened her mouth to yell at her, only to find that Ziva was nowhere near the emergency stop button. With a groan, Kate set down her backpack as the Israeli reached over and punched the door opener before hitting the parking garage button, cursing under her breath as she assaulted the alarm button next. Nothing. Except the lights went out before the emergency lighting came on. With a loud curse –at least Kate assumed it was one, she didn’t know even what language that was- Ziva kicked against the elevator wall before hitting the steel with her hand.

“That’s a machine, you can’t beat it into submission.” Kate told her snarkily, crossing her arms as Ziva whirled around to face her, anger still blazing in her eyes. The NCIS agent swallowed thickly. Suddenly, being in an elevator with Ziva reminded her of being locked into a cage with some large canine. A tiger, perhaps. Or rather, tigress.

“If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut, lest I remember who I can beat into submission.” the woman growled and started to pace the length of the elevator. Kate took out her cell phone, not surprised when the NO SERVICE notice stared back at her from the display. It looked like they would be here for a while. Kate sighed and plucked up her courage.

“I am… sorry.” she apologized slowly. Ziva halted in her steps, slowly turning to face her. Her entire posture was a warning bell not to approach or touch her. The agent swallowed again. “For the way I treated you. I never… I’m sorry.”

Ziva furrowed her brows. “If you think you apologizing will make me come back to the team-”

“I wasn’t.” Kate shook her head quickly. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to.” she hastily added when she saw the frown on Ziva’s forehead deepen.

“No.” the Mossad Officer shook her head. “My skills are better suited for counter-terrorism and linguistics than trying to solve crime puzzles. I was never fond of murder mystery novels, anyway.” she added, running her hand through her hair, slowly relaxing.

“You must know Shepard really well, if you can get her to go up against Gibbs on this.” Kate blurted. Instantly, Ziva’s eyes became guarded as she crossed her arms.

“I have worked with Director Shepard in the past. We were on several counter-terror ops together, following 9/11. I told her that I felt my skills were of better use elsewhere and she agreed. I never mentioned our little… shall we call it, discussion, to no one.”

Kate raised an intrigued eyebrow at that piece of information. “There’s a rumor that she and Gibbs were an item while they were undercover. You and her, too?” Kate asked. Ziva gave her a smug grin, shaking her head.

“Even if I were willing to discuss my private life with someone who obviously has an issue with my sexuality, you forget that you are both employees of NCIS, and while you are civilians, DADT still applies to you. So I suggest you shut-”

Kate stepped forward and pressed her lips to Ziva’s before she could stop herself. She felt the Israeli stiffen before Ziva relaxed and returned the kiss, her tongue darting out to deepen it. Before she knew what was happening, Ziva had pressed her into the corner of the elevator, hands firmly grasping her hips to hold her close as Kate’s hands came up to tangle into the Israeli’s curls. It was Ziva who broke the kiss, staring at Kate in surprise. She quickly let go of her and took a few steps back until her back hit the other side of the elevator, her chest heaving. Kate stared at the other woman, surprised by her own actions and even more surprised that Ziva hadn’t just slapped her and pushed her away. No, she had given in and returned the kiss and- Kate groaned and hit her head against the elevator wall.

“I’m not gay.” she mumbled, hearing Ziva give a soft snort of laughter.

“Clearly.” the Israeli muttered and Kate wished she could wipe the amused grin off her face.

“I’m not!” she argued and instantly, the amusement dancing in Ziva’s eyes disappeared, the guarded look returning to them.

“Of course. My bad.” she nodded. When she moved towards her, Kate flinched and pressed herself against the steel. Ziva paused, rolled her eyes and hit the alarm button again before retreating to her corner and sliding down to the floor before curling into a ball.

“What are you doing?” Kate asked her as Ziva snatched her jacket from where it was lying on her backpack.

“It is late, I am tired, and we are not getting out of here anytime soon. Therefore, I will go to sleep.” she declared, closing her eyes.

“That is my jacket!”

“Your NCIS one is in the backpack so shut it.” Ziva snapped at her, using her arm as a pillow and keeping her back pressed to the wall so she could see the elevator the second she opened her eyes. Kate remained standing for a few minutes, silently glaring at the other woman before she laid down, too, trying to get comfortable and accidentally kicking Ziva in the process. When she did it again, this time out of frustration, the other woman’s hand closed around her ankle and her eyes glared daggers at Kate before Ziva let go and closed them again. Kate kept staring at her watch for almost an hour until she drifted off into an uneasy slumber. She wasn’t gay. She couldn’t be gay. That was a sin, she wasn’t in love with Ziva, she didn’t have a crush on another woman. She was Kate Todd, a Catholic and straight as an arrow.

She woke up to Ziva’s boots inches from her nose and darted up quickly, hitting her head on the railing with a loud smack.

“Ow.” Kate breathed, reaching up to massage her throbbing skull.

“I was just going to give this back.” Ziva’s voice floated around her and she felt something soft land in her lap. Opening her eyes, Kate found her jacket lying there and slowly got up, steadying herself as things were spinning slightly for her. She felt Ziva pull her hand back but didn’t argue at the gentle touch.

“You’re going to live.” the Israeli declared. “It’s not bleeding but will probably turn into a lump.” she added, not moving from standing to close to Kate. It took the other woman a moment to realize that one of Ziva’s hands was resting on her waist, steadying her. Her heart rate went up and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. As she opened her eyes again, she found that she’d better have left them shut. The elevator had stopping pinning for her, but now she was confronted with a slightly sleepy Ziva David, dark curls mussed and lips slightly parted, only inches from hers.

“Thanks.” Kate muttered, her eyes flickering down to briefly glance down Ziva’s shirt before they darted back up to her lips. Kate bit hers to keep back a whimper as Ziva got even closer, pressing her against the elevator wall.

“You’re welcome, Kate.” she muttered, her accent more pronounced and Kate’s knees turned to jell-o. Ziva caught her easily. “Careful there.” she uttered, her voice strangely soft. Kate looked into her eyes, swallowing.

“Maybe I-” she started but Ziva claiming her lips with her own in a soft kiss. “Am a little gay?” Kate finished and Ziva gave a low chuckle deep in her throat.

“Maybe.” she allowed.

“Just to be sure…” Kate whispered before kissing her again.


	73. Kate & Ziva, secrets

For a moment, nothing happens. The apartment is eerily silent, so silent that Ziva can hear the clock tick once, twice. Then Kate’s grip around her glass slips and it falls to the floor, shattering on the tiles of the kitchen. The NCIS agent blinks at the sound and looks down in surprise, cursing when she sees the mess at her feet. She bends down to start picking up the biggest of pieces and hisses when she cuts herself, Ziva dropping to her level and taking her hand gently to inspect the damage, but Kate pulls back as if her touch burns her. She stands, throwing the shards into the sink and stepping over the mess, careful not to slip on the wet tiles before she disappears from the kitchen, leaving Ziva to draw a deep breath and clench her eyes shut at the tears threatening to fall.

She slowly gets up and makes her way to the bathroom, finding Kate pressing a towel to her hand and trying to open the first aid kit at the same time.

“Let me.” Ziva mutters, taking it from her and pulling the zipper open. When she looks at her, she finds that Kate is staring down at the first aid supplies before carefully peeling away the towel. The cut is not long but deep and Ziva draws in a sharp breath when she sees the blood well up, reaching out instinctively, wanting to comfort and sooth the pain before remembering how Kate recoiled from her in the kitchen. She catches herself just before she touches the other woman and balls her hands into fists before drawing a deep breath and getting the peroxide and gauze to clean and wrap the cut.

She works in silence, Kate hissing in pain a few times. When her hand is wrapped, she takes the first aid kit away from Ziva and it is then that the Israeli realizes that Kate still has not looked at her.

“Kate, I am sorry.” she mutters, reaching out to touch her again, but before her fingers can brush her shoulder, Kate turns her body instinctively, placing herself out of Ziva’s reach. “I know I should have told you, but-”

“You’re damn right you should have!” Kate suddenly explodes, slamming the cupboard shut and wincing when she does it with her injured hand. “Goddammit, Ziva! He was your brother!” she snarls, her face a mask of disgust as she looks at her for the first time since Ziva’s revelation.

The other woman swallowed thickly, willing the tears to stay back.

“I did not know how.” she breathed. “I wanted to be a part of the team but Abby was already hating me and DiNozzo and you were hazing me, and I thought, I thought if you knew that I would be done. That you would get me off the team and I would have to go back to Israel and I couldn’t, not after, not…” she stopped, drawing a shaky breath. “I never meant to lie to you, Kate.” she added, her voice breaking. The other woman stared at her, clenching her jaw.

“What else did you lie about, huh?” she asked, her voice strangely calm. “Did you lie when you said that you considered me a friend? Or when you kissed me? When we made love? When you told me you loved me? Was that all a ruse, a way to get close to me, so you could finish what he started?!”

Ziva quickly shook her head. “No, no, Kate. I could never hurt you, never.”

“You did.” her girlfriend stated, crossing her arms and drawing a deep breath before shaking her head. She pushed past Ziva and went to the bedroom, pulling a duffel bag out from under the bed and throwing it on it. Ziva’s eyes widened, but Kate made no move to pack it, instead she turned and went to the living room, grabbing her coat, cell phone and keys. It was only at the door that she paused.

“I’ll be back in two hours. When I return, I want you gone. I don’t know what this means, all I know that right now, I can’t stand the sight of you.” she threw over her shoulder before stepping outside the apartment and pulling the door shut behind her. When she heard the lock click, Ziva’s breath left her and she collapsed onto the floor, hiding her face in her hands.

_What have I done?_


	74. Ziva & Malachi, guns

“Hey, what are you doing?” Malachi asked as wandered over to where Ziva was standing over the disassembled pieces of an IMI Uzi.

“Trying to memorize this.” she informed him, deliberately picking up the pieces and re-assembling the semi-automatic weapon before taking it apart again.

“Why are you doing that?” he asked her. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s totally hot, but-”

She didn’t look up from her work but still managed to punch him in the shoulder. With a sigh, she set down the last part and looked around. Aside from a new recruit that cleaning the guns that had been used today, they were the only ones around.

“I almost failed last time.” she admitted. Malachi raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he crossed his well-toned arms, waiting. “My father was not amused.” Ziva added, sighing. “I just… I don’t just want to pass, it won’t be enough this time. I need to make it into the top ten.”

“Hm.” Malachi nodded, looking at the dissembled parts of the weapon. “I could teach you.” he offered and Ziva raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What? No one has beat my time yet.”

“I know. It is just that, when we try to ‘study’ together, we usually end up doing other things.” she reminded him with a smirk before sobering. “I really need to get this right this time, Malachi.” she softly said, returning to her task. He watched her pour over the instruction manual briefly before he went to get a gun for himself. He went to the table next to hers and took it apart, placing the pieces down.

“What are you doing?” Ziva asked, looking over with a frown. Malachi just gave her a look before quickly assembling his gun again and setting it down. He walked over to her, looking up to make sure the other guy was occupied before he hooked his fingers through the loops on Ziva’s pants and pulling her close.

“I’ll teach you and you reward me after the exam.” he told her. “No funny business, no jokes, no in- well, minimal inappropriate touching.”

Ziva hesitated. She looked down at her work and then over at his table, biting her lip.

“Okay.” she agreed, nodding. “Show me.”

Malachi pressed a quick kiss to her lips before letting her go. The soft smirk on his face disappeared and he got the concentrated look she had seen on him when they were at the shooting range.

“The first thing is organization.” he told her, starting to rearrange the pieces on the table. Ziva shook her head briefly, a soft smile playing on her lips, before she started following his actions, listening to what he was saying.


	75. Ziva & Malachi, Tali

Malachi gave the woman a smile and a small nod, taking a step aside to let her out of the room. Once she was gone, he sighed and shook his head, turning around in the big kitchen. Everything in the David mansion was _big_ , he had come to find. Large rooms, lots of windows to let the sun in, two huge fridges and very big, comfortable beds. The place spoke of old money, a wealth that came with social standing as well as manners. Not that Ziva was too fond of those, though, far from it actually.

Malachi shook his head again and went over to the cupboards, searching for a glass. He needed a stiff drink and while David did not openly object to him spending a lot of time with his daughter and was probably aware of them sharing a bed often, he doubted that the man would take him drinking the vodka straight from the bottle too well.

“Upper shelf in the leftmost cupboard.” a soft voice told him. He whirled around, his hand going to his hip instinctively, but only encountering the fabric of his suit pants. The girl frowned at him before walking over and leaning up on tiptoes to take down the glass, offering it to him.

“Thank you.” he nodded, taking it from her and opening the bottle. Before he could raise the glass to his lips, she dumped two plastic ice cubes into the glass. He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

“Zivi uses them when she drinks vodka.” she informed him. Ah. Made sense, at least they would cool the drink but not dilute it. Malachi toasted her and downed half the content of the glass in one big gulp.

“Where _is_ Ziva?” Tali asked him, looking around.

Malachi shrugged. “Somewhere in the house, I’m sure. Shouldn’t you be with your guests?”

The teenager sighed and hoped onto the kitchen isle, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. “They’re not here for me, not really.” she muttered, shaking her head. “They just want to talk to Papa, impress him. They always call me _Talia_.” she crinkled her nose in disgust. She looked so much like her sister when she did it that Malachi felt a pang of… _something_ , as he looked at her. She was smaller than her sister and unlike Ziva and Haswari had mudgreen eyes. There were freckles covering her nose and cheekbones, her skin was lighter than that of her sister, too. But besides that and the difference in age, the two girls could very well have been twins. In the three days he had stayed at the house and seen them, Malachi had noticed how much their mannerisms mirrored each other. Though Tali laughed more often than Ziva did. Well, not laughed exactly, but _giggled_ , like the girly teenager she was. She wore skirts and dresses instead of cargo pants and camouflage shirts and her room was pink instead of the navy color Ziva’s was, though as much of an orderly chaos reigned it as that of her older sister.

“When are you leaving?” Tali suddenly asked him and Malachi shrugged.

“When I have overstayed my welcome.” he joked and Tali snorted.

“Keep it up and it won’t be long.” she told him and Malachi tilted his head at her. “You are aware of Ziva’s room not being soundproof, yes?”

Malachi cringed, remembering just how loud they had been last night. That explained the rather sour look on David’s face at breakfast this morning.

“Ooops.” he muttered, eliciting a giggle from the teenager.

“There you are.” Ziva said when she entered the kitchen, brushing her curls behind her ear and giving her sister a mild glare. “Aunt Nettie is looking for you.”

Tali shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “Perhaps she should wear her glasses, she may find me.”

“Do not be a smartass.” Ziva’s voice was icy when she admonished her sister. She took the glass from Malachi wordlessly and downed the content before filling it up again and taking another sip. “What are you two even doing here?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at them suspiciously. Malachi opened his mouth to say something that didn’t make it look like he had been trying to pry information from his lover’s sister, but Tali was faster.

“He told me what fun you two had last night.”

Ziva spluttered and Malachi quickly thumped her on the back as she started coughing. Once she had herself under control again, Ziva turned her glare on him and he held up his hands in defeat.

“I said nothing of the sort, I swear.” he told her, but Ziva’s eyes only narrowed further and she opened her mouth, no doubt a sharp comment on the tip of it. Again it was Tali who was faster.

“Relax, he didn’t say anything, I was just jerking your chain, Zivi.” she rolled her eyes, hopping down from the counter. “But he promised me that he would dance with me.” she declared, holding out her hand to Malachi. With another look at his lover and the knowledge that the fire in Ziva’s eyes was not of the pleasureable sort, he quickly took the teenager’s hand.

“That’s true.” he nodded and let her pull him along. They were dancing in the main sitting room, Malachi’s one hand holding Tali’s as the other rested on her shoulder while the girl was clutching at his shirt and looking down occasionally to follow his steps when he felt someone’s eyes on him. When he looked up, he found Ziva leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed as she watched them. Malachi’s eyes met hers and he tensed before Ziva gave him a nod and small smile. Tali looked up at him in confusion and he gazed down at her, flashing the girl a big smile before her twirled her around, making her laugh out loud in delight. When he looked back at the doorjamb, he found Ziva gone, but a quick search of the room showed her on the dancefloor with her half-brother.

“Malachi?” Tali’s voice cut through the music and Malachi looked down at her again, taking a long step to the side and pulling the girl with him so he could watch Haswari and Ziva better.

“Huh?” he asked.

“I’m glad Ziva asked you to stay over.” the girl told him, blushing heavily. “Of all the jerks she has brought home, I don’t think you’re the worst.” she added and Malachi chuckled.

“Yeah, you’re not that bad, either. For an annoying teenager.” he teased her, grinning when she flushed even more before he continued to move them through the room.


	76. Jenny & Malachi, escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the prompt was "a fic where Jenny meets Malachi"

Jenny Shepard was not a coward. She faced danger head-on without batting an eyelash. She didn’t need anyone to stick their heads out for her; she could take care of herself. She was also skilled at math and knew that four to one were bad odds.

Running from the alley, she paid no mind to the fact that the headscarf she had been wearing slipped down and exposed her bright red hair. She knew that it would make it easier for her to be spotted in the crowd, but her hands were busy loading a clip into her gun as she tried shaking off her pursuers.  
  
The first bullet whizzed past her and she cursed, taking another back alley and another. She was quickly getting lost in the maze of unmarked streets on the bazaar. She’d worry about finding her way back later, when she was not trying to save her damn skin.  
  
She risked slowing down to a brisk walk and drew her headscarf up again, turning around slightly to cast a look behind her. Jenny had barely managed to draw a relieved breath when one of her pursuers rounded the corner, spotted her and yelled out to his companions. She cursed again, picking up speed and trying to slip through a group of people while she felt panic rise inside of her. She had lost Ziva almost an hour ago, she had no one to have her back, she was completely on her own and had no idea where these guys had friends and who could turn against her in this crowd.  
  
Jenny shook her head and fought the urge to cry as she slipped into another alley and made a run for it. Just as she was passing a narrow side street, a hand reached out, grabbed her arm and yanked her in. She almost lost her balance and opened her mouth to scream out but a firm hand settled on her mouth as she was dragged, kicking and biting, into the entrance of a house. Whoever had grabbed her cursed under his breath in Arabic and fear gripped Jenny. She let her body go slack and he let go of her for a split second, which was all she needed. She quickly scrambled to her feet and made a run for the exit, but the guy caught up with her. He slammed her back against the wall and covered her mouth again.  
  
He hissed something at her as she kicked him between the legs, only to discover that he came prepared.  
  
“Stop it and shut up!” he told her as his hold on her upper arms tightened and her head hit the wall, making her see stars. “I am on your side, stop it or they will spot us!”  
  
Jenny clenched her eyes shut against the pain and gave a soft moan. She could hear people run down the street and the guy pulled her under the stairs, covering her mouth again as his ragged breathing filled her ear. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she didn’t struggle, didn’t dare to make a sound. The people who had run after her were looking to kill her; he was apparently not going to do that, at least not for the time being.  
  
When the steps had stopped echoing down the street, he slowly let her go and dusted himself off.  
  
“Come on, let’s go.” he told her, grabbing her arm and shoving her along. He led her through small yards and she had to climb two walls until he suddenly took the stairs in another rundown house. He didn’t have a key but instead knocked on the door in a peculiar rhythm, one Jenny did not bother to memorize. Her head was pounding, her entire body ached, especially her arms where he had grabbed her repeatedly.  
  
The door opened and the guy pushed her in, down the hallway with paint that was peeling off the walls and into a room that was bare except for two dirty mattresses on the ground, a radio, a stove and a box with a sniper rifle. A bundle of clothes lay discarded on the floor, blood smeared over them. When she turned to finally let out the tirade that had been building inside, she suddenly found her throat closing at the sight in front of her. The giant guy that had minutes ago attacked her was looking over a dirty Ziva, gently pulling off a band-aid to reveal a large cut just beneath her hairline. Her Israeli partner gave a hiss of pain and slapped his hand away.  
  
“This needs stitches.” the guy muttered, pressing the band-aid back onto the sweaty skin.  
  
“Out of yarn.” Ziva joked, raising her eyes and taking in Jenny. “I see you have survived your run-in.” she said, looking her over.  
  
“What the hell is going on?” Jenny demanded to know, her eyes flittering between the two others, who apparently knew each other.  
  
“Malachi Ben-Gidon, Jenny Shepard.” Ziva made the introductions, flopping down on a mattress. Malachi nodded towards Jenny.  
  
“I am sorry for manhandling you.” he apologizes. “I was afraid you would scream.” With that, he left the room and returned shortly with three bottles of water, handing one to each Ziva and Jenny. The latter slowly sat down on the other mattress, looking over at her friend. Ziva took a sip of the warm liquid.  
  
“Tariq’s men followed me. I managed to take out two of them, but the other two kept on pursuing. I ran out of bullets.” she told Jenny, a shudder running through her. “We fought, one of them hit me over the head with a, what do you call them? Three by five?”  
  
“Two by four.” Jenny corrected her, reaching out and gently touching the bruise that was forming on Ziva’s jaw. The Israeli flinched but leaned into the touch slightly before continuing.  
  
“I managed to take them out and went here. Malachi gave me a change of clothes and then went out to find you. I was worried that they may have gone after you, too.”  
  
Jenny looked over to the foot of Ziva’s mattress where Malachi had sat down.  
  
“You’re Mossad, too?” she asked and watched him nod.  
  
“Yes. Your cover has been blown. You cannot return to the hotel.”  
  
“What do we do now?” Jenny asked him, stupidly. He shrugged.  
  
“Aviv is trying to get fake papers.” Ziva muttered and Jenny looked down at her, alarmed when she saw her dark eyes closed. Malachi reached out and pinched her calf, causing Ziva to kick at him.  
  
“It’s not bedtime yet.” he told her, scooting closer and easily pulling her body into his lap. To Jenny’s surprise, Ziva didn’t attempt to fight him; instead she gave a soft sigh and tried opening her eyes.  
  
“My head is killing me.” she whispered and Malachi reached up to stroke her curls from her face, away from her sticky skin.  
  
“I know.” he muttered, kissing her jawline. “You’ll get to sleep all you want soon, Ziva. But not just yet.” he told her. Ziva slowly moved her legs and sat up, rubbing a hand over her eyes.  
  
“What if he can’t get us papers?” Jenny asked, trying to come up with something to occupy Ziva’s mind. She didn’t doubt the severity of the blow the other woman had sustained, and as Malachi had indicated, right now was not the time for Ziva sleep, no matter how badly she wanted to.  
  
“Then we will bribe someone. You two need to get out of here as fast as possible.” Malachi said, grabbing his gun when they heard a key be inserted into the lock down the hallway. Jenny dug out her own, too, aiming it at the door. The door to the apartment opened and closed and steps echoed down the hallway. A male voice called out, not in Arabic but in Hebrew and Jenny saw both Ziva and Malachi relax shortly before another man walked into the room, giving a curt nod in Jenny’s direction before he kneeled down in front of Ziva. He handed a bag over to Malachi who got out surgical thread and painkillers, tossing the latter over to Jenny, who took one before tossing it back, refusing to look at the other guy patching up Ziva’s cut.  
  
“I could not get plane tickets.” the man told them once he was finished and put a fresh bandage over the wound. Jenny had changed her clothes in the meantime, noticing that none of the things had originally been hers. So they hadn’t seen a chance to get into their hotel room.  
  
“There’s a train to Cairo in half an hour, Mal will leave with you.”  
  
“What about you?” Ziva asked as Malachi helped her up. She had taken some of the painkillers but still winced when he brushed against her side.  
  
“I will stay behind and help with the clean-up.” the man that must be Aviv answered.  
  
“Thank you.” Jenny nodded towards him and he shrugged.  
  
“Just doing my job.” he said, grabbing his gun and the keys for the apartment before he ushered her down the hallway. “I will accompany you to the station. We have to hurry.”


	77. Ziva & Abby, secrets

Her mouth opened, but Ziva couldn’t make a sound. So she closed it again and stared at the woman in front of her, green eyes shining with expectation, uncertain smile painted on ruby lips.

“Abby…” Ziva started, clearing her throat and watching as Abby slowly frowned and her face started falling.

“You won’t do it.” the Forensic Scientist realized, crossing her arms. Ziva quickly shook her head, searching for the right words to calm the other woman down.

“It is not that I do not want to, I do. But-”

“I thought we are friends, Ziva.”

“We are!” the Israeli argued, her frustration building.

“Then why won’t you help me keep this a secret?!” Abby asked, throwing her hands up in the air. Ziva took a deep breath and balled her fists before forcing herself to relax. Her _friendship_ with the other woman was fragile, she had no illusions there. Her and Abby were just too different to ever get really close to each other, and given how Abby had shunned her when she first started working at NCIS last year, she also had a pretty good idea of what it would be like if she got on her bad side again.

“I know you are trying to be nice, and-”

“ _Trying_ to be _nice_?” Abby repeated, lifting an eyebrow in a way that told Ziva she was in big trouble now.

“Okay, wait.” she asked, holding up her hands. “I have worked with Jenny before we both started at NCIS. I would even go as far as saying that she and I are friends.”

“Which is why I need your help!” her friend nodded eagerly and Ziva shook her head.

“I won’t help you with _this_!” she yelled at the Forensic Scientist.

Abby pouted and shook her head.

“Wow, you really hate having fun, don’t you?” she muttered, turning from Ziva to retreat to her office. Ziva threw her arms in the air and went after her.

“Trust me, if I help you to break into the Director’s house so you can decorate for a surprise birthday party –and I do not even want to find out how you know when her birthday is- the only one who would be having _fun_ would be the news reporter that would cover the NCIS director shooting two of her own people when she came home unexpectedly and thought they were burglars.”


	78. Ziva & Abby, last kiss (character death)

She could still feel her lips tingle from their last kiss.

She had been in the Lab and Ziva had snuck down for a breather, trying to escape Gibbs’ wrath. They normally weren’t ones for fooling around at work, but Abby had been waiting for results, anyway, so she and Ziva had ended up in her office and then ones simple kiss had let to them making out full force.

But Ziva’s cell phone ringing had interrupted them just as the Israeli had slipped her hands under Abby’s skirt. It had been Gibbs, telling her to come to the garage; they had a lead and would pick up a suspect. Ziva had kissed her then, making Abby see stars and leaving her body tingling, promising to pick up where they had left off later.

Only that it later would never happen. Because the suspect had had a gun and none of the team had been wearing their vests because it had just been a routine thing, nothing had caused them to suspect anything like this. And now Gibbs was in surgery, Tim was under 24 hour surveillance thanks to the hit on his head, Tony was getting the graze in his side stitched up, and Ziva…

Abby closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. All she could see were images of Ziva. Dancing around in her apartment only clad in a tank top and shorts. Smiling at her when she left the Lab. Smirking as she hovered above her on the bed. She could still feel her run her hands over her body, feel her press into her, hug her, kiss her temple…

Abby drew a shuddering breath and opened her eyes again. She wordlessly got up from the orange chairs in the hospital waiting room, ignored Palmer’s question where she was going. She just had to get out, get away from there.

She drove to the Navy Yard completely on auto pilot, not even realizing where she was headed until she pulled up at the garage and turned off the ignition of her car. Her feet took her to the elevator and her finger was pressing the down button before she could do anything about it.

She didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Ducky had left the one at his desk burning and it was enough for her. If she tilted her head a little and ignored the woman’s pale complexion, she could almost pretend that Ziva was just sleeping, resting. That she’d open her eyes in a few hours, smile, kiss her and return to her job, to their lives. But she wouldn’t.

“I couldn’t stay at the hospital any longer.” Abby muttered, feeling silly. “It just, it felt wrong. Knowing you were here, all by yourself…” she trailed off, frowning at the dark stain on Ziva’s shirt. She reached down and pulled up the zipper of the body bag a little so it covered the two bullet holes in the Israeli’s chest. Abby bit her lip, allowing the tears to finally fall.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Ziva.” she breathed before folding in on herself as she started crying in earnest.


	79. Ziva & Abby, last kiss (no death)

“I hate you.” Abby pouted and crossed her arms, turning away from Ziva. Who rolled her eyes and folded the pair of cargo pants before putting them into her duffel bag.

“No, you don’t.” she said patiently, walking into the bathroom and collecting her toiletries. She heard her girlfriend sigh and when she returned, Abby was sitting on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest.

“No, I don’t.” she whispered, tugging on the zipper of Ziva’s bag. “But I hate Vance.” she declared with a fierce nod. This time, Ziva shrugged. She wasn’t too fond of the man at the moment, either.

“Abby…” she sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running her hand up and down the other woman’s thigh. “It is my job.”

“Just because you get paid for it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” the Forensic Scientist muttered, throwing the pillow across the room. “I hate him, I hate them all. It’s not fair!” she exclaimed as Ziva reached out and stroked her cheek.

“I know it’s not. But it will be only a few days, then I will be back, and we can celebrate then.” she pointed out.

“We’re still gonna be apart for our anniversary.” Abby sighed, looking at her with big sad eyes.

“I will take my laptop, I am sure that I will get a few minutes in the evening so that we can video chat.” Ziva told her, tugging at one of Abby’s pigtails. Abby reached up and squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry.” she apologized softly. “I know I’m being difficult, you didn’t ask for this. And even if you had, speaking at the conference is a great thing. And I’m happy for you, really, it’s just… I’m gonna miss you.” she breathed. Ziva shook her head and leaned in to capture her lips.

“It is okay, I am going to miss you, too.” she muttered against Abby’s lips before turning to close her duffel bag. As she stood, her cell phone went off.

“David.” she answered it. “Yes, I will be down in a minute.” Ziva said before hanging up with a sigh. “Dorneget is waiting downstairs.” she told Abby, helping her up before she grabbed her bag and the two left the bedroom. Ziva grabbed her keys, turning around in the door.

“So… have fun.” Abby tried a smile, but her eyes swam with tears. Ziva let go of her bag and pulled the woman into a hug, kissing her before resting her forehead against Abby’s.

“I will call as soon as we get there.”

“Wait until you are in your hotel room.” Abby shook her head and Ziva gave her hip a light squeeze.

“I am sharing with Ned.” Ziva reminded her, making Abby groan. “But I am sure I can convince him to take a long walk. Or something.” the Israeli added, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Dammit, we know!” Abby cursed when the doorbell rang twice from downstairs. Ziva chuckled, reluctantly letting her go and shouldering her bag.

“I love you.” she muttered.

“I love you, too.” Abby sighed. “One last kiss?” she begged and Ziva rolled her eyes but leaned in nevertheless, brushing her lips against Abby’s before waving at her and leaving the apartment. Abby closed the door and ran back to the bedroom, opening the window to look outside. She watched as Ziva left the building, allowing Dorneget to take her bag. The two of them jogged over the street to the other side where he had parked the car, as he put Ziva’s bag in the car, the Israeli walked around the passenger side. Before she opened the door, she looked up at the building, waving at Abby and blowing her a kiss. Then Dorneget was already in the driver’s seat and Ziva quickly got in, too, and the car sped off.


	80. Ziva & Monique, guns

Ziva stepped out of the bathroom to find her partner going through the contents of the huge trunk at the foot of their bed again, a list in her hand. The Israeli rolled her eyes and ran her hand through her damp curls. The heat in this place was getting to her. She was used to Israel, but the South of France was a different matter, a different sort of heat that got into her system and made her dizzy and itchy in a way that was not appreciated. Not when the only relief for that itch would have to get passed Lisson, and if there was something Ziva had learned in the last two weeks she had worked with the Interpol agent it was that Lisson did not tolerate any monkey business. Meaning that the only moments when Ziva found relief was when she was alone in the shower.

“Have a nice shower?” Lisson asked as she closed the trunk and folded the list, pocketing it. Ziva shrugged.

“Nice enough.” she answered. She wasn’t under any illusion that the other woman had no idea what she had been doing in the bathroom. Well, it didn’t bother Ziva, and if it made Lisson uncomfortable, maybe she would loosen up a bit and let her out of her sight for a few hours.

Lisson narrowed her eyes at her before shaking her head. She went over to the fridge and took out a bottle of cool water, holding it against her neck and throwing another one at Ziva, who deftly caught it and took a sip of the cold liquid. She eyed the bed, considering lying down, but the comforter was scratchy and her skin was still a little damp…

“I could get us something to eat.” she offered. Lisson watched her, considering her, and Ziva almost screamed. She wasn’t allowed to be alone with the guns. She wasn’t allowed to handle to guns. She wasn’t allowed to stray from Lisson’s side unless she went to use the bathroom. The distrust the other woman had for her was ridiculous. They were supposed to be on the same side, on the same team. Though Ziva was sure that if Interpol could have established contact to the cell on their own, they would have never involved Mossad and she would not even be here right now. And she was starting to think that would have been a good thing. Damn, she missed Israel, and Malachi and his hands. A soft sigh made it past her lips and Lisson deflated.

“Fine.” she agreed, throwing Ziva a bunch of cash. Not enough to make a run for it with, but enough to get them a decent meal. The Israeli inclined her head, grabbed the keys and left the room.

* * *

Ziva took her time trying to find something edible for them. When she returned almost an hour had passed, and she was sure that Lisson would kick her ass.

Surprisingly enough, the main room was empty when she entered, but the shower was running. Ziva rolled her eyes and closed the door, locking it before she put the food on the table and stripped out of the cargo pants she was wearing. She went over to the bathroom, knocking on the door to tell the Interpol agent that she was back, but Monique had not closed it completely, so it slowly opened. Ziva frowned lightly and poked her head in, opening her mouth to call out. Her tongue froze at the sight in front of her.

Lisson was standing with her back to the door, her face turned into the spray of water, one hand placed on the tiles of the wall, the other… Ziva smirked when she noticed the stance of the other woman and how she was trembling slightly, soft gasps falling from her lips. She stripped out of her shirt and panties and closed the bathroom door forcefully. Lisson stilled, tensing, and when Ziva opened the sliding glass doors of the shower, the other woman whirled around so fast that Ziva just barely caught her fist before it could connect with her face.

“Easy.” she murmured, her hand shooting out to steady the other woman as Monique almost lost her balance on the wet floor of the shower. As her hand brushed against the other woman’s wet skin, a jolt of electricity ran through her and her eyes snapped to Lisson’s. Monique’s mouth was slightly open and she moved it silently before shaking her head. Ziva loosened her hold on her fist and Monique took her arm down before reaching out and letting it rest on Ziva’s hip, her thumb stroking over her skin as she took a step against the wall to make room for Ziva in the shower. The Israeli turned under the spray of water to close the door behind her, and when she turned back around, Monique lost no time to kiss her, the grip on her hip tightening as she reached up to tangle her other hand in Ziva’s curls. Ziva let out a low moan before returning the kiss, wrapping her arms around the other woman before her hands started to travel over her body, cupping her breast gently as she pressed her against the wall. Monique broke the kiss and arched into the touch as Ziva began to kiss her way down from the corner of her lips to her neck to her collarbone, her hands picking up their journey again.

“Ziva…” Monique breathed, squirming against her. The Israeli paused in her ministrations to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Better than flying solo, yes?” she grinned, watching as Lisson swallowed thickly before nodding slowly and capturing her lips again, gasping when Ziva’s hand slipped between her legs.

Maybe being stuck in this room wouldn’t be so bad after all. Not after she found someone to play with, Ziva mused as she felt Monique’s nails dig into her shoulder, a loud moan falling from her lips.


	81. Ari & Tim, watch and learn

Tim rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up on the couch. He had just closed his eyes for a second, but he must have dozed off. His eyes found the clock on the DVR and he cringed. Oh yeah, he had drifted off all right. Slowly, he stood and stretched, his back protesting after two hours of lying on the couch.

Tim frowned lightly. The house was suspiciously quiet. Oh damn. With a sigh, he decided that it was probably better if he found out what shenanigans his daughter and brother-in-law had been up to this time before Ziva and his son came home.

Deciding to begin the search upstairs, he soon found himself back downstairs in the kitchen after finding the rooms upstairs empty. He was just about to start on looking down in the basement when a giggle drifted through the open window in the kitchen and he went over, looking out and breathing a sigh of relief when he found his daughter and Ari sitting on the porch, with their backs to the house.

Tim quickly found his shoes and went outside to check on them, frowning when he noticed how wet the porch was and the many containers in various sizes sitting around.

“Watch, Amelia.” Ari told the girl and put a small cup into one of the containers, filling it with what Tim now realized was colored water before he poured it into another container, watching as the colors swirled around and started mixing.

“Look, Daddy!” Amelia exclaimed, giggling and clapping her hands. “It’s turning green!”

“I can see that.” Tim nodded as Ari stirred the water a little to speed up the process.

“Now do red!” the girl demanded of her uncle and Ari chuckled, shaking his head.

“No can do, princess.” he told her. “Red is like yellow and blue, you can’t get it by mixing other colors.” he explained, making room for Tim as he sat down next to him. Amelia frowned, biting her lip and pushing at the container with the green water.

“Purple.” she decided, looking at the men with big brown eyes.

“Purple is a secondary color.” Ari informed her. “What does that mean?”

Tim rolled his eyes as Amelia scrunched up her face. He was just about to remind the man that she’d only start school in three weeks when the face of his daughter suddenly lit up.

“We can mix it!” she exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the three large containers as she sat up on her knees. “With red, blue and yellow.” she pointed at the corresponding colors.

The girl’s uncle nodded and handed her the cup, placing a plastic container in front of her. Amelia frowned, turning the cup around in her small hands and biting her lip again.

“Which ones?” she asked, looking uncertainly at the two men.

“I forgot.” Ari declared, tapping the container with the green water. “But it’s not blue and yellow that make purple; they make green.”

Tim nodded.

“Go on, try it. Just pick another combination.” he encouraged her, watching as she slowly lowered the cup into the red water, watching the faces of her uncle and father carefully for any indication if she was right before she poured some of the water into the previously empty container. Next she stared at the blue and yellow ones before settling on the yellow water. She watched intently as the two colors slowly mixed and frowned.

“That’s not purple. That’s orange.” she muttered. Ari merely placed a fresh empty container in front of her.

“It’s not yellow and blue, and it’s not yellow and red, either.” he surmised. “What combination haven’t you tried?”

Amelia pouted at him and shrugged before her face suddenly lit up and she put the cup into the container with the blue water, letting some run into the empty container and then over the cup over the red water.

“Go on.” Tim encouraged her again, smiling at the girl and watching on as she poured the red water into the blue and Amelia started laughing again when the colors swirled around, mixing.

“Purple!” she exclaimed, pointing at the water with a huge smile on her face.

They spent the next hour with Amelia requesting colors and the men pouring them or instructing her how to do it herself, until they heard a car pull up and Ziva came around the back, carrying their son.

“Mommy!” Amelia exclaimed, jumping up. Ziva set Damien down and caught her daughter, letting her pull her along to the porch and frowning lightly when she saw the mess the three had made.

“Mommy look! We made colors!”

Ziva laughed and ruffled Amelia’s hair before giving her brother an amused look.

“The water thing? Really?” she smiled and Ari shrugged.

“What worked with Tali had to work with her, too.” he told his sister, pulling his nephew into his lap and kissing the boy’s temple. Damien frowned at the water and poked his uncle, his small hands forming a series of gestures. Tim leaned over and gently touched his son’s arm, waiting until he had Damien’s attention. He signed “watch” and then grabbed an empty container, proceeding to pour blue and yellow water together and watching his son’s face who watched with wide eyes and an open mouth. Tim handed him the cup and scooted over slightly so Ziva could sit down next to him as they watched their children mix different colors together, sharing the cup. He heard Ziva sigh before she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Tired?” he asked her softly and she gave another soft sigh.

“It was a lot.” she admitted. “There’s a new DVD with new signs. And you need to come next week.” she told him, poking his chest.

“Sure.” Tim nodded, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. He didn’t usually skip their ASL classes, but he had gotten home in the middle of the night after an out-of-town case and been just way too tired to be able to pay attention to their instructor today.

He looked up when he felt a gentle tug on his shirt. Damien was standing next to him, signing that he was thirsty. His father stood, ruffling the child’s hair.

“Thirsty?” he asked and signed at the same time and Damien nodded. “Then let’s get you something to drink, huh?”


	82. NCIS, flowers

The woman in the flower shop knew the silver-haired man. He had been coming over the years, usually on the same days, and he always bought the same flowers: a red rose and a white one and a white lily.

So Rebecca smiled at him when he stepped into the flower shop, greeting him and walking around the counter to pick out the nicest looking specimen for him. When she turned around to go back and wrap the flowers for him, she paused in surprise when she found her customer looking at another plant, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“They’re beautiful.” she prompted him, walking back over to him. The silver-haired man nodded mutely and she watched him swallow thickly before his lips tugged upward in a soft grin and he selected a flower, pulling it out carefully and handing it to her. She accepted the flower with a smile and went to wrap it, telling him the price and accepting his usual and pretty generous tip.

“Have a nice day!” she called after him when he left her little shop.

* * *

After placing the flowers on Shannon’s and Kelly’s graves, Gibbs took the orchid and slowly made his way around the cemetery, until he came to stand in front of her grave.

It was strange. They had never been about words; their relationship relied on gestures and physical contact more than spoken phrases. Yet he felt like he should say something, anything. Because she was gone now and he couldn’t let her know what he was feeling with a touch or look any longer.

“Miss you, Jen.” he muttered, his voice barely audible, before he bent down and placed the flower on her grave.


	83. Ducky, life

He wakes sometime in the middle of night, from a dream that is already fleeting, even though he tries to grasp at the memories in the semi-darkness that is his hospital room.

He was a boy again, in Scotland. His mother took him out to the beach and they had a picnic on the sand.

Ducky draws a shuddering breath and turns his head to see Abby curled up in a chair near his bed, fast asleep. The ME winces at her posture, knowing that her knees will give her hell once she wakes up and stands. He tries to reach out for her, but he is too weak and so his arm remains lying on the bedsheet.

His eyes turn back to the ceiling and he draws another deep breath.

He feels exhausted and numb above all else. Even more than he is thankful. Part of him wonders what made Mister Palmer look for him on the beach. Maybe it wasn’t his time yet. But then again, Ducky wonders why not. Because he has had a long, fulfilling live. Granted, he will not leave a wife and children behind, but he has been honored with the chance to touch the lives of so many people, to bring them solace in the moments of their biggest pain that it doesn’t feel as if he wasted his years, on the contrary. He made them count, every one of them.

“Duck?” Gibbs’ voice is soft as he walks into the room and the older man looks at him, blinking his eyes rapidly. “Get some sleep, Duck.” the man mutters, squeezing Ducky’s hand before grabbing a chair and setting it down next to Abby’s, carefully stroking over the woman’s dark hair. Abby gives a soft sigh in her sleep but doesn’t wake up as Gibbs sits down and stretches out his legs, reclining slightly as he watches Ducky.

The ME gives him a soft smile before closing his eyes and counting the beeps of his heart monitor, slowly drifting off to sleep again.


	84. Gibbs & Kelly, pancakes

“Kelly, darling,” Gibbs called, trying to grab the attention of his crying daughter.

“I want Mommy!” the five year old wailed, big tears running down her face. Gibbs crouched down in front of her with a sigh.

“I know, Kells.” he muttered, wiping her tears away. He had been gone for two months, just getting back two days ago when one of Shannon’s old friends had called and asked if she wanted to meet, to do some catching up. He had told her it was fine, he was looking forward to spending time with his daughter. He had missed so much, Kelly had grown so much while he was gone that he figured they could use some bonding time. What he had neglected to do was to consider that his daughter would be more attached to her mother at this point, relying on her for comfort. And of course the first thing to happen after them getting up in the morning, after sleeping in and Shannon leaving early, had to be Kelly falling down half of the stairs.

His daughter sniffled, her large eyes still swimming with tears as he looked her over, relieved at finding no blood anywhere on her.

“Where does it hurt, Kelly?” he asked her, picking her up carefully and carrying her over to the couch. The girl mutely placed a hand on her head and winced, erupting into a fresh bout of tears. “Sh, it’s okay.” he tried to sooth her, rubbing her back carefully. “Do you want Daddy to kiss it better?”

“I want Mommy.” Kelly only repeated her request from earlier, a pathetic whine creeping into her voice. Gibbs took a deep breath.

“She’ll be back later and then she’ll kiss it better.” he promised her, shifting her on his lap and noticing the angry red welt on Kelly’s arm. Oh, this was going to turn into an ugly bruise.

“Can I have ice cream? Mommy lets me have ice cream when I’m sad.” Kelly informed him, sniffling again and rubbing her stuffed teddy over her face.

“Does she now?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow at his daughter before getting up and carrying her to the kitchen. He would have set her down and made her walk herself, but the girl kept clutching his shirt in a death grip, so he had little choice in the matter. When he opened the refrigerator, he suddenly found himself confronted with the next disaster as the only ice he found were half-frozen ice cubes he had put in there the night before. Oh-oh.

“You know what my Dad used to make me when I was sad?” he asked his daughter, opening the fridge and getting out the milk and eggs.

“What?” Kelly asked as he set her down on the counter to check if they had enough flour, cheering internally when he found that to be the case.

“Pancakes.” he smiled at her, getting a measuring cup and a bowl. “Wanna help?” he asked his daughter, but Kelly shook her head, choosing instead to watch her father start the preparations.

“Mommy says pancakes are weekend food.” she informed him with a solemn expression when Gibbs checked the batter and was satisfied with the result.

“Yeah, well, Mommy doesn’t know everything.” he shrugged, searching for a pan and heating it after he pulled Kelly from the counter. He got her small step stool and kissed her temple, carefully inspecting the lump on the back of her head without calling attention to it. He handed her the scoop and helped her pour some of the batter into the pan, Kelly giggling at the fizzing sound the action created. He let her do a few normal ones before he started to create some shapes with the batter. Or at least, he tried to. What was meant to be a fish his daughter declared to be a cactus, the horse turned into a one-eared dog and the cat looked like some run-over variation of said animal. But Kelly was giggling as he slid another creation onto her plate and she turned it around and around, trying to find a shape she recognized before digging in, and he watched her, warmth spreading through him.


	85. Tony & Abby, snow angels

Tony scrunched up his face and lifted his foot, trying to place it in front of the other. Perhaps that last round of drinks had been a mistake after all, he mused when he suddenly stumbled to his left, barely keeping from falling over.

“Abby!” he cried out, attempting to glare at her. Her leaning against him just as drunkenly had been crucial to his keeping his balance and not falling over in the attempt. “What are you doing?” he slurred, furrowing his brows at his own voice as he watched her lie down spread-eagled in the snow.

“Making snow angels!” the Forensic Scientist exclaimed with a giggle and moved her arms and legs. Tony shook his head and took another step, which only sent his world spinning. Perhaps Abby had the right idea and lying down for a few seconds would do him some good…

He stumbled from the sidewalk and flopped down in the snow, shivering when some of it fell down into his collar. Strangely enough, the cold relieved the beginning throbbing in his head and Tony gave a happy sigh.

“You have to move your arms and legs.” Abby told him, causing him to obey her.

“The stars are really pretty.” he muttered, halting in his movements to watch them dance on the nightsky. Abby sat up next to him, hand going up to her head.

“We’re in the city.” she mumbled, casting him a look. “It’s too bright to see the stars.”

Tony blinked in surprise. “Oh.” he shrugged, tugging his hands under his arms. Hadn’t he had a pair of gloves earlier this evening?

“Come on.” Abby said, making it onto her knees and tugging at him. “I’m cold, I wanna go home.”

With a sigh, Tony sat up and made it on all fours, slowly standing up before he held out a hand to his friend. Abby using him as leverage to get up on her feet almost made him fall over again, but somehow they managed to both be standing in the end. Gradually, they continued their way to Abby’s apartment complex, stumbling over their own and each other’s feet.


	86. Tony & Abby, New Year

People tend to think that he doesn’t know the rules or boundaries. The thing is, Tony is always very aware of the lines he’s toeing, he just usually doesn’t give a damn and ends up crossing them anyway. Because really, life would be so boring if there were no rule-breaking involved.

Which is why he knows exactly how much alcohol he has had. And he also knows that Abby has had just as much. And that the way her green eyes sparkle is 90% due to the fireworks currently going off in the sky, signaling the New Year for everyone to see and hear. And they like, five steps away from their boss.

Tony knows all that. He also knows that these moments, that sort of limbo between the years, when you haven’t stopped thinking of the date with the numbers of the last year just yet but already know it’s passed, when it hasn’t completely sunk in yet, these moments and the feelings they cause lead people to do stupid, reckless things that they might regret come dawn and the hangover they are all bound to get from how much they had to drink.

Oh yes, Tony knows. But that doesn’t mean that he offers any protest when Abby throws her arms around his neck, or that he doesn’t meet her halfway to offer a kiss. One that’s definitely not just a New Year’s kiss between mere friends and colleagues. One that makes fireworks that rival those in the sky go off behind his eyelids.

And he also knows that come daylight, neither one of them is going to regret it, even if his headache is going to be doubled by the headslap he receives from his boss not even an hour into the new year. Must be some sort of new record.


End file.
